The Trickster and the Spider
by rxdonmyledger
Summary: "I am the king, but watch the queen conquer" The snake knew the Black Widow, dangling by herself in a single web was dangerous. And he had no intention to get closer. But what happens when the Norns of Yggdrasil play with fate? [I own none of these characters. Based on my Blackfrost OTP while roleplaying on Twitter]
1. The bar

"Loki, I think the last time we met your brother had you in chains"

The dark-haired man closed his eyes the moment he heard her. That voice. That sensual and confident voice he had heard several times in the past. In New York. He knew that coming back to Earth was not a good idea, but Thor had insisted.

Why not? he would say. They adore me, and they will discover you are not that bad after all.

Nonsense. Midgardians would not accept him. Especially the Avengers.

Loki liked to spend his free time in libraries or wandering around the city, observing the pity mortals around him. They had boring and stupid lives. And yet, they still distrusted him. Of course, they did. They still remembered his attempt to conquer the Earth and to bring the Tesseract to Thanos. Thor's friends would be no different.

That night he had decided to go for a walk, enjoying the chilly night. He could have expected meeting everybody. The tin man, the soldier. Everyone. Except her. The woman who could trick the trickster and could sneak up on him.

Natasha Romanoff, the deadly Black Widow.

She hadn't expected to meet the God that night. It was one of her very rare night-offs and decided to enjoy the day. But apparently fate was a spoiled one and wanted to mess up her evening.

"I presume you would prefer to still have me tied up. It is a shame you can't work as a team"

Natasha pressed her lips in a thin line, showing her discomfort at his presence. Not that he enjoyed her company either.

"Well, that way you'd be silent for once"

"Why would you like to silence me, Natasha? Everybody knows who much you love hearing me speaking?" The spy rolled her eyes at his words. Obviously, he was the same insufferable man that tried to subjugate humanity years ago. "Especially when your life is the main topic"

Natasha Romanoff leant against the bar and took a sip of her drink, raising her perfect eyebrow with a sarcastic smile on her features. Loki had not changed at all. He was still much taller than her and had his black hair slicked back.

"My life is not that interesting. Why don't we talk about that time when Hulk smashed your ass against the Stark Tower's floor?"

Bingo. His smile faltered while he observed her features, but, being the God of Lies, he was a good actor after all. Loki cleared his throat and raised his hands. His characteristic smirk adorned his face again.

"You have other interesting qualities, but your life is not one of them" Loki paused and made a gesture to the empty glass, leaning against the bar, by her side. "I prefer to invite you to a drink"

"What kind of qualities?" the Black Widow contained her emotions at his idea, raising an eyebrow again. What was he up to? "Listen, Loki. If you think after all you did you can come here and invite me to a drink, you're wrong"

"Manipulation. Lies. We are not that different, Agent Romanoff. We learn to live with them. To use them. We take a lie to make reality more bearable. We make it into the only truth" Loki leant against Natasha, his lips curved into a broad smile. "If Barton had killed you, he would have learnt from you. It's just…" The God clicked his tongue while observing the Agent. "I don't know how long he would be able to deal with it. Besides, drinking is a way to avoid the conversation about how Hulk 'kicked' my ass"

Natasha listened to his words carefully, observing Loki's movements while he ordered two drinks anyway. She sighed and rolled her eyes, taking her glass.

"Truth depends on who tells them. And why? I think you love that story. The 'great' Loki defeated by a green guy"

"And what's your truth, Natasha? Your truths change quite often" Loki raised his eyebrow while taking a sip of his drink, tapping on the wooden bar. When he heard the following words, he couldn't stop himself from smirking smugly. "The great Loki. It's fantastic. You should say that more"

"I have no truth, Asgardian" replied the spy with a serious gaze in her features, analysing the man opposite to her. Should she trust him? She had been taught to recognise her enemies, and Loki had been a powerful one years ago, even if Thor insisted in his brother's change. "In your dreams"

The God stared at the red-haired woman in awe. His smile never faltered while he scrutinised her. She had been the only one capable to defeat him. Both still remembered their last encounter. A glass barrier divided them.

The Trickster and the Spider.

"C'mon. I want to hear it again"

"I prefer to rip off your tongue, so I can stop hearing you" muttered Natasha, unimpressed. The people around them chatted happily and the noises of the glasses were heard in between the whispers and the voices.

"Stop saying that. You love hearing me. Just once more" Loki insisted with his signature smirk, leaning against Natasha, who stayed still, glaring at him. She should have stayed in the compound. A movie, some popcorns. That would have been nice.

"Yes, why don't we talk about all the lives you destroyed in your mad adventure?" hissed the spy while turning to him. Loki forced himself to not roll his eyes at her retort. There it was. The same story all over again.

That was the reason why the God of Mischief was not comfortable in Midgard. Time could pass. He might offer his help countless time and still, it would change nothing. He would always be the criminal. The villain.

"It's hard to get used to living in Midgard. Asgard was so different" Natasha was surprised to hear his revelations and she observed the man. He seemed absent-minded. But then, the change in his features revealed a wicked smile. "I just hope I don't have to meet my… 'dear' brother as often as I used to"

"Whoever listens to you might think you have feelings" said the spy with a brief smirk in her plump lips. There were several couples around them, and the room was filled with the echo of conversations and the clinking of glasses and cutlery.

"Feelings?" Loki's voice was tainted with a mix of disgust and amusement. "What kind of weak God do you think I am, Romanoff?" He sighed dramatically and moved his hand. "He seems quite sensitive since Hela destroyed his hammer. I can't afford myself the chance to hurt him as I used to"

"I think you are that type of weak God" replied the agent with a sarcastic smile, turning herself in the stool, facing him. Hearing his story, she remembered.

The Asgardians had escaped after Ragnarok and Norway had accepted to share a part of their land with them. It was a surprise to everyone to see that Loki was with Thor and Banner, who was missing since Sokovia's battle. Obviously, the Avengers were reluctant, but they accepted giving Loki an opportunity.

"I heard the story. Your brother seemed quite sad about it"

"Yeah, he's the sentimental one"

"Really?" Natasha's voice was sarcastic as she feigned surprise. "I wouldn't have guessed if it weren't for you"

Loki listened to her words and he didn't know if he wanted to despise her or to laugh at her remark. The Agent was intelligent, something he had noticed in their first encounter. Her mind was sharp and agile as his, or even more. Not that he would admit it, of course. Yet, a part of him still hated the Avengers.

"Yet, I don't care about anyone nor I care about hurting others. You should know that" Loki added before raising his eyebrow, as a way to make Romanoff remember New York in 2012, even if…well, even in that wasn't him.

The Agent didn't have to know that.

"Besides, you will change your mind when you have to use "My king" with me. Even though I do not know what you think of me, considering you called me great" he retorted with that wicked smile again. Natasha had to force herself to stop her eyes rolling.

"I'd prefer to rip my tongue with my bare hands before calling you that" she answered bluntly, not looking at him. "Moreover, I think it's all a mask. All of you. A performance"

"Please, don't do that. Not because of me, of course, but because of the other mortals" Loki played with his glass and somewhere in the bar a group of people started to laugh loudly, making other customers to turn their heads. But not them. "You speak to me as if you were speaking to yourself, Romanoff"

"I am pretty sure you are more similar to the humans you claim to despise than you would like to admit"

"There's nothing to admit. You humans are weak. You are made to serve and be ruled. I have not that disgusting sentimentalism that lives within you. Behind this 'mask', as you say, there's only a king"

"You are not a king. And you will never be. You can write that on your diary"

Loki chuckled loudly before shaking his head. He was the God of Mischief and she was the Black Widow. Both had been trained and had learnt to lie, to deceive. To play with their deepest fears and make them their armour.

"A diary? That's hilarious, Romanoff. I don't consider myself the writer sort. Is that what you do? Writing your deepest secrets in your diary? Oh…" he added with a fake concerned voice. "I just remember that... there might not be many secrets now"

Natasha opened her lips briefly before letting a soft sigh. She didn't know how he had the slightest idea of her past or Washington, but it seemed he did. She had fresh in her mind the memories of that year. When everything was crumbling and both Steve and she had discovered that Hydra controlled SHIELD and that Pierce was their leader.

All her past. Her tainted ledger was out in the open now. Everybody could see her as she really was.

Natalia Romanova, the Avenger. The spy. The lethal assassin. The murderer.

"Well, things have happened over these years. But all of us have secrets. Even you" she replied with a dry tone, not even looking at him. This was bad. Really bad. He couldn't be interested in her and she had to find a way to divert his attention to another topic.

"Things have happened…but not what I expected" His voice surprised the Agent, who turned to him. Loki had his blue eyes fixed on a point on the wall, as if his mind were wandering around other places rather than this particular moment. What was that? Disappointment? Sadness? No, that could not be. Not from him. "That's true. The difference is that you don't have mortals writing stories about you in a book. Some of them are lies or half-truths. If I told you one of my secrets, you wouldn't believe me. And if you read one of those books, you will never know if that's true or not"

"And what do you want now?" she muttered, moving her glass to see the amber liquid against the surface. Her lips curved into a ghostly smile before it disappeared. "Well, that happens when someone wants to kill me. I don't trust them" She sighed before turning again to him, staring at his eyes right in the eye. "Those are stories, Loki. We all have them. Yet, living according to them is up to you alone. I don't even believe those about Thor and Odin are right. Humans need stories. Maybe if you behaved differently, things would change"

Natasha Romanoff surprised herself by saying this. If someone had told her years ago that she'd be having a drink with Loki Laufeyson, the God of Mischief and the one who had tried to subjugate the human race in 2012, she would have hit them with her Widow's bites.

"My desires are different now, Natasha. As you said, we all have secrets" he said with a bitter tone before he flashed a sarcastic grin. "It sounds like you're getting tipsy. Are you agreeing with me, Agent? It seems you're using me to feel better with yourself. Anyway, we are completely different. I am not human, and I don't need stories. The opinion they have about me is much less terrifying that the truth"

"Yeah, you're right. We all have secrets and we're not equal. You're just an egocentric God with air of superiority who prefers to lose an arm before admitting that feels more than he seems"

"I'd like not to be in a situation in which I might lose an arm, thank you" Loki replied with a smile. Opposite to Romanoff, he knew his true nature, and he didn't want to tame it. He had accepted it with all its consequences and had forced himself to believe that there was nothing warm in him. "I like to lie, but not to myself. I have nothing good to you and your little group, Natasha. And if you still think there's more inside me, then you're wrong. I don't have the need to hide myself behind shields and barriers. But you…" Loki's eyes flicked with interest as he leant against the bar, scrutinising the Agent's face, who kept his expressions hidden behind a stern mask. "Who are you? I mean…who are you right now. In this precise moment. Who are you when nobody's watching you?"

"I could help you with the arm thing, you know" Natasha shook her head, almost turning to him in disbelief. Did he really expect her to open to him like this? He must be drunk. "I am myself, Trickster. And that's all you have to know"

"An arm could be truly useful in plenty of situations" Loki said with a flirty tone and a wink before sighing, leaving his glass on the bar. "You are you. I hope that's enough for you, Agent. I think I demonstrated that I know you better than anybody else. Not the best way, I have to admit, but I don't know another way"

There it was. The moment they both confronted. SHIELD's best intelligence weapon against the God of Lies and Deceive. The God and the spy. Natalia Romanova against Loki Laufeyson.

"Anyway, with the Titan on his way, we are all lost" Loki muttered, and Natasha felt that stingy pain in her guts. The God had told his brother about Thanos and his purpose and Thor had told the Avengers. They needed to be ready, whatever it takes. "Have you…ever been afraid, Agent Romanoff? I mean…you can't fear something you don't know. Maybe that's why I've never been truly feared. But…I'm talking about being afraid about you. About knowing that there is something else out there, stronger and bigger than you are" His voice was now softer than before. It seemed as if that sarcastic act had faded away and Natasha wondered why. Why her and why in that moment, in a bar in the city. Why did he decide to open a bit?

"We all fear something. It's natural to be scared. That's what make us…well, I was going to say humans, but that would offend you, probably" added Natasha with a brief smile and a joking tone before clearing her throat. "The thing is, I felt afraid. It's natural. We can't control our fate, our future. Sometimes…we can't even control who we are"

Natasha's voice was losing her strength as she spoke, her mind drifting to another place. A place back in time and space. The Red Room. She could still hear it. Smell it. Years of training in that place. She shook her head and kept talking.

"It's uncertainty what corrupts us. We can't control it. Only assume it and try to fight it the best we can"

Loki smirked when he heard the word 'human' from her lips but that smile faded when her words sank inside him. The spy knew what Loki hated, but not what Loki loved, even if he didn't seem to love anything.

But he did. He loved Frigga and she had been taken away from him. And, in some way, he loved his brother. And that was one of the reasons why he wanted to rule Midgard. Apart from his selfishness, he wanted to destroy the world Thor loved. He just wanted to be remembered. Appreciated, just like the God of Thunder.

"No, I don't want to assume it. I want to control it. It seems you forgot that option" Loki stopped and clenched his fists. When had he decided to confess his deepest thoughts in a bar in Midgard with the deadly Black Widow by his side? When did he achieve what he wanted, instead of being others' puppet? "Frigga said that a true king must accept his mistakes. She asked me how many lives I sacrificed in New York. Yet, they are far less than Odin's victims. And still…"

His voice trailed off as he spoke. His mind had failed in its usual attempt to keep his mother's features away from him. He did not have the opportunity to say goodbye before the dark elves had killed her. Now, he only had a few memories left.

"I never wanted to be like him but…he was my father" he finished, staying still with his blue orbs fixed on his glass before turning to Romanoff, who seemed attentive to his story. He didn't know why he was saying this to her, and yet, here they are. Natasha's lips turned into a bitter smirk, shaking her head.

"Fear is always there. You can try to manipulate it, use it to your profit. But can you really control it? Life is a chess game. At least from my point of view" When she heard him talking about Frigga, she couldn't stop a small pinch of compassion in her guts.

Thor had told his friends and colleagues about what happened in London. Of course, SHIELD wanted to know, and some cleaning was necessary. Those kinds of secrets could not be out in the open, like that.

"And do you? Do you recognise your mistakes and how your acts provoked thousands of people dying?" Her tone was harsher than she expected. But nobody could blame her, couldn't they? She still remembered the smell of the dust, the blood, the flying Chitauri around them. Stark falling from the sky. "Ah, parents. We hate being like them and still, we do"

Loki did not say anything as Natasha's voice got inside his mind, making him remember all the things that happened. Stuttgart, New York. It would be useless to deny her accusations. What should he tell her?

"_Hey, Agent Romanoff. I know you all hate me, but I didn't play with Barton's mind and killed all those people because I wanted. The stone was tricking me too"_

That was pathetic.

"I'd say it was nice to see you, Loki. But I'd be lying"

Romanoff paid the bill and took her jacket, placing it over her shoulders in an elegant movement Loki appreciated. He smirked and raised his glass at her words, turning to watch her steps leading to the main door. The Black Widow was dangerous, and he knew that. Every movement, every word was calculated, and the Trickster would not give her the pleasure of falling into her web. Yet, he could feel his palm sweaty and he frowned.

Meanwhile, Natasha Romanova was inside her car, with the music blasting and echoing in the small place. Her hands grabbed the wheel and her knuckles were white, still playing the conversation in her mind.

What the _hell_ was that?


	2. The gifts

**Disclaimer: This is something I did not explained previously. The story is set before IW and basically the Avengers live all together in the compound. This includes Bucky, because in this fic, CW ended differently. Thor lives there too but not Loki. **

**Once Black Widow (2020) is released I will probably write another Blackfrost fic as the plot might not fit in this one. Besides, some features of Natasha's personality will be based on the comics.**

**As always, feel free to comment or review whatever you want. Your opinions are truly appreciated. **

Natasha grunted and sent Bucky to the mat, which made him groan in pain. He lifted his hands as a sign of surrender and the Widow smirked smugly.

"Tired already, Barnes?" she said with her hand extended to him so he could stand up. Bucky's blue eyes shone with mischief and he smiled.

"You wish, darling"

Before she could do something, Bucky grabbed her and tried to roll her over so he could be on top. Little he knew that Natasha had already considered this option and before he could blink, he felt the sharp blade of a dagger against his throat.

"I thought you'd know better" she added with amusement in her features, pressing it further against his skin. Bucky Barnes sighed and fell on the mat.

"You should let me win. At least once" His voice was almost pleading and Natasha chuckled, shaking her head. The ponytail she had wove with the movement and she put her hands on her hips.

"And ruining my reputation? In your dreams"

Romanoff wiped the sweat off her forehead with a towel and observed Steve doing push ups as if it barely cost any effort. She was always surprised about his stamina and endurance. Natasha shook her head and was about to train with the new weapons Stark had improved for her, when FRIDAY spoke.

"Miss Romanoff? There's a box for you in the living room"

"What?" The redhead frowned at the information. She never received any gifts and surely, she had not ordered anything from any webpage. She exchanged looks with Bucky, who shrugged and went to train with Steve. "I didn't…anyway. I'll go"

She picked up her belongings and left the training room, greeting some agents that walked down the corridors. They all bowed their heads as a sign of respect to her. They all knew the infamous Black Widow and a large number of them admired her, something she never quite understood.

Her ledger was still dripping with red and yet, people saw her as a hero. An Avenger. Even after she had leaked SHIELD's files, and everybody saw her as she truly was. The Black Widow, the Red Death. Clint and Fury had given her a second opportunity. A way to redeem herself.

Natasha reached the empty living room and scanned it, looking for the box FRIDAY had mentioned. On the table there was a box with a green and black envelope and a golden ribbon. On top of it, a card rested. She took it hastily and frowned, observing the elegant and elaborated handwriting, almost Victorian.

With love,

Loki.

The first line was crossed out. Natasha lifted her eyebrows at the message, and she would not admit it. Ever. But she was speechless. The paper was exquisite, shiny and it showed that an amount of time and effort had been invested on the present, which surprised her even more.

Why, out of all people, would Loki send her a present?

Suddenly, her body stiffened, and Natasha considered the idea of a mortal threat for her life or the Avengers compound. Carefully, she poked the box and took it gently, shaking it so she could hear what was inside. A metallic noise caught her attention and she shook her head, taking the box under her arm.

Probably it was a joke. A way to mess with her head. Yes, that was all.

She walked to her room and put the present inside a drawer, leading to the bathroom. A nice shower would erase all her worries and tiredness from her mind and body.

Soon, she forgot about Loki's present.

"That's not how it happened, and you know it, Rogers!" Tony pointed at the captain with a smile in his features before taking a sip from his glass. Soon, Steve's voice could be heard, complaining.

Natasha enjoyed the conversation without being part of it. She had always been the silent one. Occupational habit, some would say. In the Red Room she was trained to be a spy. To observe, to analyse. She could do that right now, but she felt so safe she didn't need it.

"C'mon, Buck! Tell him!"

"Oh, no. I'm not getting into this fight" The man said with a smile in his handsome features, raising his hands as a sign of surrender. They all laughed and enjoying their time together, something rare.

It was common that not all of them could be in the compound at the same time. Missions, reports or just other plans interfered with it. But tonight, it was a time to enjoy. The night went as usual before FRIDAY's voice echoed in the room.

"Miss Romanoff?"

"Hm, yes?"

"There's a new box for you"

Everybody's eyes were in the redhead's face. She opened her eyes slightly, surprised at the interruption. Suddenly, the thought of the forgotten present that was still inside one of the drawers, in her own room. Natasha cleared her throat and stood up, walking towards one of the agents, who was holding another box, with the same wrapping paper.

This one is with not that much love, but still has love.

There was no signature. And it was not needed. She recognised the emerald paper and the handwriting. There was no doubt it was Loki's.

"What the hell…" The spy muttered as she observed the card, holding it between her fingers and reading the words over and over again.

She didn't understand why Loki would take time and effort in wrapping a gift to her, above all people. Loki, the God of Mischief. The villain. She had to remember that he had tried to conquer Midgard and not the conversation in the pub.

"Hey, Tasha!" Clint entered the room followed by the rest of the team and looked at the box. "What's that?"

"This? Oh, nothing. Something I ordered from a chocolate shop"

"And they wrapped it?" Tony asked with his eyebrow crossed. Natasha simply shrugged. She was the deadly Black Widow. She had perfectioned the art of lying.

"I asked for it"

She left the living room, heading for her own bedroom. Her movements were casual, as if she were in a normal day after dinner with her teammates and friends. Nothing unusual. Yet, when she got to her room, she let go a shaky breath, placing the box on the table, staring at it.

She had forgotten about the first one, of course. Why would she? Loki Laufeyson was nothing but a God. A threat. Or that was the way she had to see it. Yet, why wasn't she able to forget that insightful conversation in the pub?

The wit. The sharpness of his mind, almost equal to hers. His blue eyes piercing hers while he observed her talking.

Natasha shook her head and composed herself again. This was nonsense. There was only one way to finish that.

She opened her drawer and took the first box, grabbing the second and walking to the post area of the compound, where she left them. The cards were still there, and Natasha doubted about keeping them or not. Finally, she took them and put them inside her pocket, not willing to allow gossiping eyes to check her correspondence.

"FRIDAY"

"Yes, Miss Romanova?"

"First hour, tomorrow morning. I want those boxes sent to where the address they came from"

"Yes, Miss"

"Goodnight, FRIDAY"

She walked confidently to her room, a smile on her features and she thought of what she could do next. Maybe a bath. Or Netflix.

No, definitely, it would be both.


	3. The deal

"Everything clear?"

Fury's voice was heard over the conference room. The Avengers stirred and moved, prepared to fulfil their duties. Several brown folders were on the table with different papers on the inside. HYDRA, terrorist attacks. There was no a single day SHIELD didn't have anything to do.

Natasha sighed and observed the information in her own folder. It was something easy, actually. The Russian mafia had been immersed in several illegal activities in Hell's Kitchen. She would have to contact her ex-partner Matt Murdock for help. Not that she needed it, but he could have useful information.

The spy stood up and went out of the room, walking around the compound absentminded. She had had a few crazy days with a possibility of having found one of the Infinity Stones. Yet, Strange informed it was not.

Since Thor had returned with Loki, Bruce and the rest of the Asgardians, they all had been informed about the immediate threat that was Thanos and his purpose. They contacted Stephen Strange, who put his powers and contacts with different sorcerers to help SHIELD.

But for now? Nothing. Zero. Nada.

Natasha Romanoff sighed and felt an uneasy feeling. She turned and observed that the corridor was completely empty. Not a single soul. She frowned and moved her hand to her lower part, where she kept a gun. It was impossible that someone could have entered the compound. FRIDAY would have raised the alarm, and everybody would be prepared.

"Weird" she muttered and kept walking. This time, to her own room.

Suddenly, a young agent came running to her, waving her hand to catch Natasha's attention. The spy frowned and stopped, waiting patiently until the girl got to her, panting.

"Hi! I mean…Agent Romanoff, I…Uf, those damn stairs" Both women smiled at her retort and the woman took a tote bag, giving it to Natasha. "Two boxes came today in the mail. Apparently, you asked to be sent to the original address"

"And?" replied the redhead, trying to keep her heartbeats and voice under control. She wouldn't allow anyone to know that she had received some gifts from the God of Mischief. Out of all people, he was not especially welcomed in the area. She could imagine Clint's face if she told him this.

"It doesn't exist" the woman smiled and shrugged, turning her back to Natasha and walking away, leaving the agent alone with the bag in her free hand. She frowned and sighed loudly, leading to her room.

Once she got there, she closed the door and leant against it, feeling the cool surface against her back. Natasha shook her head and left the folder and the bag on the table, observing the landscape through the window. Obviously, as the rest of the Avengers, she had her own room in the compound. It saved time to live in the same place where you worked.

Yet, Natasha loved her apartment in Little Ukraine. She had privacy, nobody knew who she was or what was she doing. All that mattered was her space and her cat, Liho. She didn't want a cat, obviously. She didn't need it, nor she did want to become attached to it. And yet, it happened, and they were both inseparable.

She glanced the bag and sighed, shaking her head and running her hands down her perfect hair. She was not going to open them. He was playing with her and if she did, he would put that smirk of his and would say that she was interested.

_"In the end, you'll open them"_

Natasha startled herself and turned around, observing her room carefully. Nothing seemed out of place. Everything was fine. Liho observed her and meowed, stirring. Her brows frowned. It was as if…she had heard him. Loki's voice. In her own mind. She sighed and rubbed her forehead. She was tired. That was the explanation.

"I won't open the freaking presents" she muttered under her breath. The idea of Loki hearing her was complete nonsense.

_"Maybe one day I'm not here. Those presents could be the only remaining from me"_

The spy stilled and her hands closed, trembling at the realisation that he was, in fact, listening to her. And getting into her mind. Who the hell he thought he was? Natasha clenched her jaw and looked at her reflection in the mirror, straightening her back and walking to the bag. She tossed the content on the table and took the first gift that had arrived.

There was a bag with an expensive mix of black tea and berries, mango and other fruits. It smelled delicious. She was not going to deny that. She put the box inside down and a badge fell on the table, jingling. Natasha Romanoff frowned and took the small piece in her fingers, rolling and observing the green background with the golden letters that formed a word. KNEEL. She snorted and tossed it on the table again, placing the hands on the surface.

Why the hell would someone like Loki take time to choose some presents, wrap them carefully and send them to her? It made no sense.

"Damn, Trickster" she muttered under her breath and rubbed her forehead. She did not have the time for those games of his. She glanced at the folder and sighed. She would have plenty of time to prepare for her mission. Besides, it was not something she had not done before.

Probably she'd be back in three days.

She took the other present. It was perfectly wrapped, as it was the first one. She opened it and saw a newspaper's page with a photo of Clint and herself. Probably during the battle of New York. There was a handwritten note on the side.

_"This is just a little reminder that I played with his mind. It is a shame you can't work as a team"_

The spy huffed and took the next gift: A small stuffed toy with the form of Loki. He even had a small sceptre too. Natasha couldn't stop the amused smile that grew up in her lips. It was even cute. There was a note on a side:

_"I found it on a shop, and I must admit I am truly offended. Sleep with him, staring at you. Next time we meet we can discuss if there is any resemblance"_

Wait…Next time? Oh, no. There would be no next time. She'd make sure that did not happen.

Near the toy, there was a chewing gum with another note. _"I've been with one the whole day. Try them. They're…okay"_

Natasha glanced at the table and observed all the objects, scattered on the surface. Every single one a present of the God of Mischief himself. What should she do with them? Sending them back had been proven to be useless. There was no address to be sent to. She could ask Thor to bring them back to his brother, but that was out of question. The redhead loved the God, but he could be quite nosy, and she didn't want her fellow Avengers wondering why The Black Widow was sending a box to Loki Laufeyson.

No, that couldn't happen.

She kept all the objects inside one of the boxes and put the boxes under the table, not minding where they went or if they broke or not. Probably Loki sent those things to mess with her head and to bother her. And obviously, Natasha knew better than give him what he wanted.

It was time to take Loki out of her mind and get to work.

* * *

Meanwhile, in another part of the city, a man walked elegantly, wearing a tailored suit. It was all black, matching his hair. His steps were confident as he approached the café, chewing the gum and smirking at the thought of the one he had sent.

He wished he could have seen the Agent's features.

Loki Laufeyson stepped inside the place and scanned the people chatting happily or drinking alone, absentminded. The barista lifted her head and smiled brightly at him, asking for his order. He replied automatically. In his time in Midgard he had come to appreciate some tasty meals that were…interesting, to say the least. He had come to like something called…Nutella.

The man was almost hidden behind a group of girls who were chatting and laughing. He was tall, strong and had piercing blue eyes. Loki nodded at him and took his coffee, walking to him. The man made a gesture, inviting the God to sit on the empty chair. Loki smirked and sat down, observing him.

It had not been difficult to find a man of his characteristics to do the task he had in mind. People speak. And when they do, rumours spread. And he was the God of Mischief and Lies, after all. He would know.

"So?"

"So what?" Loki replied with a smile, sipping on his coffee. He was relaxed and he could tell the other man was tense, considering his body language. "Oh, yes. Our little work"

Loki took a brown folder and placed it on the table. His large pale was on it while Loki's menacing eyes observed the other. He had been thinking about this. Quite a long time. But what was life without a little fun? And he had been in Midgard for too long. Boring, longing days. He couldn't stand his brother boasting about his adventures with the Avengers.

"Come with me, brother" He had said, even though both of them knew it was madness. "You could be useful to find the Stones"

Oh, yes. The Mad Titan.

He knew he would not cease in his quest. He was powerful indeed and could fight. But what made him dangerous was not his physical complexion, and that was something the Avengers didn't understand. No, Thanos had a purpose. And he really thought he had to do it. Whatever it takes.

And he had an army.

"Listen to me" said Loki once he recovered from his memories, clearing his throat. "I just want you to injure her. No killing unless I say otherwise. Understood?"

The man frowned. Probably this wouldn't be his first request to fight someone. But it was more probable that his clients hire him because they wanted someone dead.

"Just send her to the hospital. Nothing too dangerous or risky for her health. Do not kill her"

Loki pushed the folder to the other end of the table and leant back against the chair, sipping his coffee and enjoying its taste. Yet, his eyes didn't miss a single movement. He wanted to know if he could trust him. In the end, he was still a mercenary. Besides, the God wanted to see his reaction. That was for fun, of course.

Yet, the only gesture the man did was lifting his eyebrow. Probably the name and the photo surprised him. He would probably know the woman, after all. And he would know the fight she would pull. He'd have to be prepared to defend himself and his men from her. If it did surprise him, he didn't show. He simply closed the folder and cleared his throat, interlacing his fingers together.

"You got it. Now, I want to talk about the payment"

The corners of Loki's mouth twitched in an almost invisible smile. Mortals. They were all the same. Too simple. Too easy to satisfy. Too greedy. His hand went to the pocket inside his jacket and took another piece of paper where the man could see the transfer had been done.

Loki didn't need money. He was a God and a sorcerer. He could get whatever he wanted, and it wasn't wrong to conjure some spare money to spend in Midgard, right? Nobody could blame him. If mortals had his powers, he was sure they'd act selfishly. The mercenary took the paper and kept it inside his pocket once it was sure everything was correct.

"The first part of the payment now and the second when the job is finish"

The man shook Loki's hand and nodded, standing up. Loki did the same and even though the mercenary was quite tall, the God was still taller than him. Loki's hand still grabbed the opposite and his grip became tighter.

"Do not disappoint me"

The blue eyes observed him coldly and, for the first time, a small smile appeared in those lips, letting the God's hand go, nodding again.

"Believe me. I never fail"

Loki observed him passing by his side and walking to the door. Once he left, the God sat down again, staring outside the window. Mortals. Mere mortals with pity lives that ended the same way. He smiled as he sipped his coffee, chuckling under his breath.

Well, Widow. It's time to play.

With that, the curtain was up, and the show had begun.

The game was on.


	4. The meeting

**A/n: First, I want to thank the comments and I really hope you guys enjoy this little Blackfrost story. Second, I'm really sorry this chapter is this long. I wanted the ending to be different but that would make it even longer. Besides, what's life without a little cliffhanger? ;) **

**TW: Mention of daggers, mild violence? Nothing explicit.**

**Words: 3,677.**

* * *

Natasha walked confidently through the streets of Hell's Kitchen. The sun was shining that day, and everybody was busy in their matters. The redhead moved around the people who almost ran to their destinies.

Has life always been in such a rush? she thought to herself, staring and observing her surroundings while stopped at a traffic light. Her hair was loose and looked like fire in the sun. Her sunglasses covered her gaze and she kept walking.

She smiled at the signal near the main door of the building and looked up, noticing one of the windows was open. Natasha pressed the intercom and waited patiently. A couple of two elder women passed by her side with a dog.

"Hello?"

"Hi! I'm here to talk to Matt Murdock"

The door opened and Natasha rolled her eyes.

Not much security, Matthew. You never learn.

She entered the building and upstairs to the floor where the lawyers worked, hoping he'd be there. If not, that would be wasted time. But she was sure about her visit. Natalia Romanova knew the Devil of Hell's Kitchen perfectly due to her former relationship. After his break-up, they had remained friends, helping each other when needed.

Natasha noticed the door to the office was open and got inside, observing as a man and a blonde lady watched here attentively. The agent smiled politely, and her eyes analysed the place. A small apartment turned into a firm of lawyers. Interesting.

"May I help you, ma'am?" said the woman. Yet, before the redhead could reply, Matthew Murdock appeared in the doorframe, a smile on his handsome features.

"Natasha"

"Matthew. It's good to see you"

"Do you know her?"

"Yes, Karen, thank you. It's an old friend" Matt pointed to his own office, arching one eyebrow with a smirk. "Shall we?"

Natasha nodded and walked inside, hearing the door closing. She sat down in front of the desk, observing the different papers with Braille and the computer the lawyer used to work. The man sat down on his own chair, taking off his glasses and placing them on top of the different folders spread on the surface.

"You look good"

"You don't know" she replied jokingly.

"You always look good" he added with a bright smile on his lips, leaning against the chair and placing one hand under his chin. The spy missed those moments. Matt was someone you could talk to easily and he was a great man. "What do you need? Because I'm sure you don't come here for legal advice"

"Well, you can't never know" answered the redhead before clearing her throat and shaking her head. Matt's eyes were between her lips and chin and, even though he couldn't see her, Natasha knew he could 'see'. "I need information"

"About?"

"Russians. Trafficking. Illegal stuff. You know" Matt frowned at her request.

"Why is SHIELD interested in this? I mean. It's usually handled by the police department"

"We suspect they want to introduce a dangerous weapon in the country. Something related to chitauri materials stolen from the debris of New York" Natasha spoke quietly and took a folder out of her bag, letting it fall on the desk. She had asked it to be translated into Braille language for the man to read it.

Matt took it and ran his fingers over the papers, frowning at the information. Meanwhile, Natasha leant against the chair, tapping her fingers on the armrest. She noticed the withered plant on the corner. Different books on the shelves, probably related to the law field. He had not changed that much. She wondered if his apartment would be the same.

"This is weird" the man replied finally, closing the folder and making a gesture to Natasha. "May I keep it?"

"It's your copy. I thought you might know something. That's why I came here"

"Ah, you break my heart, Romanoff. I thought you loved me for my dry sense of humour and the terrible food"

They both laughed and fell in a comfortable silence. Matt had been an important person in Natasha's life. Still, they discovered they did not belong together, and they worked better as friends. Actually, his collaboration in several missions had been incredibly appreciated by SHIELD and the Widow herself.

"I'll keep you informed. There's no way alien weapons are in Hell's Kitchen without people talking"

"Thank you, Matthew. You know where I am. You're a good friend"

"I know. What would you do without me?"

Natasha rolled her eyes and shook her head, getting up and waving her hand at the two people outside the office. Soon she was in the streets, with the sun hitting her face and the soft morning breeze caressing her skin. She had an apartment in Hell's Kitchen nobody knew about. Matthew would find her. Meanwhile, he was right. People talk. And it was her time to get to work.

Natasha Romanoff put her sunglasses on and started walking, oblivious to the presence of a figure observing her movements, watching her carefully. A smirk appeared in the features of the man, who moved away from his spot, prepared to follow the Black Widow.

* * *

The building was empty. The steps echoed in the silence. Forgotten materials and dust everywhere. It seemed like the construction had been forgotten. Or maybe the company ended up in bankruptcy. Those things were common nowadays. The greediness of those on the top had always caused pain and suffering. And right now, maybe the own destruction of the world.

If Thanos didn't come first, of course.

The Black Widow got to one of the floors, watching the large windows on the area. She crossed her arms, observing the neighbourhood and the people walking down the streets. They all seemed immersed in their own world. Their own lives.

She had been informed by Matthew last night. He had appeared in her safe house with his Daredevil suit, claiming he had something. Apparently, the Russians would receive a new load of weapons in an abandoned building in Hell's Kitchen. He had given Natasha the approximated time.

And here she was.

Yet, she knew something was wrong. There were no voices. No boxes. Nothing. According to her own experience, there should be some criminals watching over intruders. A lorry outside. But there was nothing.

"Well, well. Look what we have here"

The voice startled Natasha and in a matter of seconds she had her gun out, pointing at some point in the shadows. That tone… that voice. Her eyes widened slightly when she realised to whom it belonged to.

No…It can't be.

"It's good to see you again, Agent Romanoff"

A shiver ran down Natasha's back as she heard some steps approaching her. The echo was deafening in the empty room. He was wearing informal clothes, and still, he was still elegant. His hair was loose and not slicked back, with soft black curls falling on his shoulders. His greenish eyes shone with mischief as he observed her with the gun pointing right at his heart.

Loki.

"C'mon, Natasha. There's no need to do that. I thought we were friends"

"Friends?" she almost snorted at the word. The grip on the gun was still firm and she was aware that she would have no problem in shooting him. He was a God, after all. He would heal and if not, that was not her problem. Thor would understand. "What are you doing here?"

"I supposed after our little chat at the pub you wouldn't be willing to repeat it, would you?"

Suddenly, something clicked inside Natasha's mind. The missions. The information. The rumours. The Russians. Her green eyes darted around the room and placed themselves on the man's features with his wicked smile.

"You planned everything. There's no cargo of chitauri weapons"

"There might be, Agent. Who knows what those beasts left behind" The God commented almost nonchalantly before staring at the gun. "Are you going to shoot, Agent Romanoff?"

A copy of the God appeared behind her and Natasha moved so she could be facing both. Her eyes darted from one to the other. The illusions were practically identical, except for the thin and almost ethereal green shimmer that surrounded the copy. Loki tried to move but the spy unlocked the safety and smirked when he stopped abruptly.

"If I kill it…" she said pointing at the copy with her chin. "both of you die?"

Loki clicked his tongue and chuckled, observing her as if the Widow were his pray. And probably she was.

"If you kill it, it will simply disappear. But I will please you so you can kill me, knowing I'll be safe while you fantasize with my death"

Natasha considered her options for a while, not taking her eyes off both Loki. He didn't seem dangerous. She knew he could have used his magic to overpower her if he wanted to. But for now, she was alive. Why?

She lowered her gun with a sigh and shook her head. "Why won't you leave me alone and die?"

Loki observed her with his glistening eyes, taking a few steps towards the woman while the copy disappeared, without any intention of attacking her. For now.

"I have no intention to die. But if I ever did, I'd like it to be by someone I never left alone"

With those words he was talking about Thor and his companions. Yet, he knew that, one way or another, they would never kill him. He never posed again the idea of dying. He was more skilled at faking it, and he would not let anyone to end his life. Not if he could avoid it. The God of Mischief had learnt to think of himself and nobody else. But if he died doing something for someone else one day, something unthinkable to him, it would be for those he couldn't leave. Thor appeared briefly in his mind. It was not only about leaving alone, but leaving, in any circumstance.

"Then let me fulfil your wish so you can leave me alone" she replied with a smirk on her features and crossed her arms. Her voice was less tense, almost relaxed. Yet, she frowned when Loki's words sank in her brain.

Loki Laufeyson, the God of Mischief and Lies. The man who had tried to subjugate the whole human race and sent a horde of aliens to destroy New York. He was talking about death. In that moment, she saw it. The brief moment in which his mask cracked, and she could glimpse through its fissures.

She snorted and shook her head. Of course, death was always present in her life. From the very beginning. She had been trained to kill. She served SHIELD. She always thought about it. A missing bullet. A distraction. Something might go wrong, and she would die.

"When the time comes. Meanwhile, you'll have to deal with my presence" replied Loki with an amused voice, trying to change the topic of the conversation.

The God of Mischief contemplating her own death? Unthinkable. He didn't want to show there was something he feared, even if he didn't know what he had or what he could lose after all. But he had held a conversation about this with the Widow in that pub, where he found a Natasha accepting her own human nature. For a brief moment, he reflected himself in one thought. A mortal thought: Fear.

To what?

The more he tried to push those thoughts to the back of his mind, the more they returned. Behind the cold and cruel façade, the God of Mischief had created for himself, there was something warm. He had been born as a Frost Giant and had been raised in Asgard, under the light of the luxurious palaces and halls. Coldness and warmth were the two opposing forces that he knew so well.

Loki pressed his lips in a thin line and walked to the large windows, observing the crowd in the streets. Some of them walked fast to get to their places. Others, they just wandered around. To him, humanity lived under a lie: the false freedom. The cruel reality of one being, that believed it was free, born to submit.

His mouth moved and became a cruel smile, with his hands behind his back. When he moved away from Natasha, he wanted to avoid the topic of that conversation. But as she had already mentioned it, that uneasy feeling will remain inside him.

"You won't be able to do it. You're distrusting and resolute. And that might be what has kept you alive, weaving your web without anybody suspecting. A black widow, dangling by herself… You could be mortal"

With that, he turned and stared at her.

"You can't deceive me"

Natasha Romanoff observed every single movement. During her time in the Red Room, she had learnt how to read emotions. And, even though they were hidden, she saw something in the God's gaze.

She walked and stood by his sides, observing and watching carefully what he was seeing. People and their comings and goings. All lives end, all hearts break. Caring was not an advantage. And Natalia Romanova knew this.

When she heard those words, she smiled. A brief, sad smile. The Black Widow. A title they threw at her like a slur. It took her time to wore it like a medal. But she knew the truth. She was dangerous. And that title was gushing red.

"Killing you?" the woman snorted and turned to him with her arms crossed. "Give me the chance and I'll do it" She got closed, observing his features, analysing him. "You don't deceive me either. I see what others don't. You fear something. Remember that I tricked you once" She smiled, sarcastically. "We are similar, Loki of Asgard"

Loki wanted to believe those words were not true. He would have wanted to reply, but maybe she was right. There were more alike than he wanted to admit. They had killed innocent people, deceived and lied to protect themselves. But, protect themselves, of what? The God of Mischief was aware of his true nature and he had certainly enjoyed in actions in the past, but some of them…would he change them?

No, that word was too tangible, too real for him. He had never regretted it, and he would not start now. When the Widow mentioned the possibility of fearing something, his features twisted. He knew perfectly his enemy, and he knew that He would not be fooled. Yet, he smirked, amused and turned to the Russian, even though there was a burning rage inside him.

"You tricked me once and you'll never do it again. Besides, you are all my little toys, in an amusement park. You'll need more if you want me to disappear. But tell me, Natasha…" the God smirked and walked towards the spy, towering her. "having reached this point…do you still want to kill me?"

Natasha could almost see Loki's brain working and she smiled sarcastically when he replied, shaking her head. She observed him getting closer and shook her head. She had been trained to create a perfect web to trap those who dared to get inside it.

"I could trick you again. And if we are part of an amusement park to you, probably you'll have more toys, not only me. Yet…" Natasha never stopped looking at him, not fearing him at any moment. "I still wish to kill you. But tell me something, God of Lies…if I am a mere mortal, a mere toy…why are you still bothering me? Especially when you seem to enjoy my company more than you would admit"

He pressed his lips in a thin line and turned his gaze again. He didn't know why he was there, bothering her. Looking for her attention only to entertain himself. The truth was that it didn't annoy him. Actually, he felt good. Maybe it was too much for the God to admit that innocent game he had with the Black Widow made him feel comfortable, warm. The same feeling he had when he was a child and ran down the corridors with Thor.

Everything was simpler. He was too childish, too naïve, too…He was always too much.

He had changed those innocent games for a Chitauri horde, and his creativity had been taken away by a crown. But did it matter? Every step he took had been on purpose. It was what he wanted. He hadn't come this far for nothing.

"Precisely because of that. Because of your…inferiority. Don't value yourself that much, Romanoff. If I wanted to end your life, I would do it. But I enjoy playing with you. I like this cut and thrust and your incapability to end me. I start to think that you're appreciating me" He raised his chin and a disdainful smile appeared in his lips. "I'm here. At your disposal" Loki made his daggers appear and played with them. "What if I give you the chance to kill me? If I ask you to, what would you do?"

Natasha Romanoff rolled her eyes at his words. It was always the same game. He would never admit anything and yet, she kept pushing because she knew what was in his mind. At least a part of it. She chuckled.

"I am not that inferior if you are still here. Besides, I give myself the value I want. Don't forget it was me who had your sceptre when we stopped you"

She had just touched the wound and she knew it. Her lips curved into a mocking smile, aware that would bother him. That moment, tied and gagged, to be taken to Asgard again. Hulk smashing him on the floor of the Stark tower. Memories she knew that would hurt his ego.

Natasha chuckled at his words. Appreciate him? Was he even serious?

The Black Widow would not deny that little game amused her. A game that could have negative consequences to her own life. She would never admit it aloud, but even with her own abilities, she was aware of his own powers as a sorcerer. Besides, he was a God, and she was still a mortal.

"In your dreams. I honestly think you are the one appreciating me. You know, considering the presents you bought me"

Natasha observed the movement and the daggers' shine. She wondered how it would feel to fight with them, the material (probably Asgardian steel) or the cost. When she heard him, she stared at him.

She had never thought about it. She was still resentful about New York and the way he had played with Clint's mind. But, would she be able to kill Loki if she had the chance? She didn't know anymore.

She mimicked him, crossing her arms and lifting her chin, leaning against the window.

"It's not that funny if you offer yourself. Killing people is easy. Making them suffer is an art. Beside, you're still the God of Lies. You'd never risk your own life. And obviously you wouldn't let me to do it" Her voice was firm and secure. She didn't want Loki to read her as she could read him. "But believe me. I'd slit your throat if I had the chance. I've killed before. Yet, I don't know if I'd like to face the rage of your dear brother"

That was not enough to annoy the God, but it had started to do it. He had made a mistake when he left the sceptre to the Avengers and the one who had taken it was in front of him. It had been humiliating.

"Are you giving you more value because you held my sceptre? I might underestimate you, Natasha, but I believe you value yourself as long as you believe you can hurt me. Besides, if I'm still here it's because I'm having fun. I'm not going to deny the merit. You amuse me. But you should make an effort to not stop doing it"

Loki replied with a disdainful look, turning his head to the side to observe the red-haired woman.

"My gifts are a mere formality. A Midgardian one I'm starting to despise. Things work better my way"

The God played with the dagger. The spy seemed eager to play with his life with the same elegance he used to toss the dagger in the air. The material shone with the light that came through the windows.

Making someone suffer was an art, she was right. To be the one in control, having someone's life in you power, that thin line that separates life from death, which sometimes lasted a second. The last breath, the last words, the last pray were the only truth with another above any kind of frankness: Death.

He had always thought that when dying, mortals became despicable beings. Too evident.

Loki divert his eyes from the woman and walked, avoiding her piercing eyes until he was behind her body. In a matter of seconds, he pinned her against the glass, allowing her to look directly to his cold and slight smile. Her hands pressed the window, but her expression never faltered She had learnt to hide her emotions and right now, she now he was chasing a prey. Loki's hand caressed the bright red locks of her before pulling it, not roughly, forcing Natasha to stare at her own reflection. The agent's eyes observed every movement and watched as he caressed her arm with the blade, pressing the point on the skin of her shoulder, without drawing blood. After that, he pressed the cutting edge against her ear. Loki's lips got closer to her ear, smiling as he spoke again.

"My brother's rage is nothing compared with mine. It's not him who you must face or whose rage you should fear. It's mine" His low growl and his deep voice made Natasha's heart beat faster, even though she didn't show it. "If making someone suffer is an art, I could make a masterpiece out of you"


	5. The fight

**A/N: I told you this would be a hell of a ride! Thanks for reading me and I really hope you are as interested as I am and I hope you enjoy it too! This is not going to be an easy way for Loki and Nat ;) I still don't know how long will it take, but it will be long. Like. _Really_ long. So I apologise. Meanwhile, you can check my AO3 account, where this story is posted as well along others ( YouAreMyMuse) or you can send me a message with a prompt if you want me to write something, especially Blackfrost! Lots of love xx**

**Words: 3,201**

**Warnings: Mentions of fighting, blood, wounds and violence. **

* * *

_'I could make a masterpiece out of you'_

Those words held the power to send a shiver down the spine of the indomitable Black Widow. His eyes were feral, and his lips were curved into a cruel smile, his grip on her red curls not faltering.

"I give myself the value I have, Laufeyson" The Widow was aware she was pressing Loki's buttons and that in any moment, he could snap. But that was one of the strategies the Red Room taught her.

Keep them talking. Make them trust you. They will speak. They always do. Make them believe they defeated the legendary Natalia Romanova. And then, strike.

Besides, it seemed the God could not stop talking to her. She smirked and turned her head as much as she could, her hands still pressing the glass.

"Being the God of Lies, you are a terrible liar" she replied mockingly. "You could find another source of amusement somewhere. Even Banner is funnier than me. I must admit, yet, that you took your time to prepare the gifts"

Her body was pushed further against the glass, and she could observe the tiny figures of the people walking around the city. The traffic's noises, the skyscrapers, they were all oblivious to what was happening there.

"Oh, no. I don't fear you, Loki. I don't fear your wrath or your revenge. You wouldn't be able to touch me"

Loki knew he had to take that arrogance away from the spy, that was the reason why she was pressed between his own body and the glass. People came and went, absent-minded, immersed in their own world. That was the summary of New York's attack. One day they had everything and the other they had nothing.

The Battle had been a mess and it would have been better if the Avengers had not come into the game. The purpose the God served to…But whose purpose? Loki laughed acidly and observed the woman in his arms.

He had expected a different reaction. He wanted the Russian to beg, to plea for her life. React in a different way. Maybe she was right, and he was underestimating her and that unaffected features had started to become offensive to him. Loki pressed the blade against the woman's fragile neck.

"You should fear me, be scared" He pushed her body against the glass again, his voice a mere growl in her ear. "All you see could vanish one day. I'm freeing you after all, Natasha. All this time lying to yourself, to them…You are nothing, nobody. Soon you might not recognise yourself and killing you would only free them from your lies. Rogers, Barton, Stark…Think about it. What have they done for you? They are not here, and they won't impede me to kill you"

"You said it. I should. I've faced worse things than you"

Things. She had compared him to an object. Natasha felt the lump in her stomach when he mentioned her…friends? Yes, she could say so. Or companions, at least. She was sure about Barton's fidelity and love towards her. He was her best friend.

"They have done more things for me than anybody. And I don't need being saved" hissed the spy, feeling the cold dagger against her skin.

Loki knew perfectly that Natasha's words were meant to defy him, to hurt him. The God of Mischief not only would be able to kill the Widow. He would have no remorse to leave her cold dead corpse behind. Or maybe…

He looked at her reflection and grimaced, lowering the blade, allowing the spy to breathe, her brain trying to calculate his next movement. Yet, she didn't have too much time, because Loki's large hand grabbed her by the throat, impeding the flow of air to her lumps before using his other-worldly strength to toss the spy to a glass table a few meters away from where they stood.

His lips curved into an amused and mischievous smile. He wanted to see the Black Widow fearing her, and he would get it.

Natasha left a growl escape her lips when her body hit the surface, the sound of glass breaking echoing in the almost empty room. She heard his steps coming closer to her and the Russian stayed there, curled body surrounded by glass, almost like a broken doll. When she was sure he was close enough, her leg moved and hit his, sending him to the floor.

Loki clicked his tongue at his own clumsiness. He was about to make his next movement, but Natasha had acted too quick. He growled when his back hit the ground.

The woman was perfectly aware that she could look more fragile than she was. That was one of the biggest mistakes her enemies made.

Underestimating the Black Widow.

Natasha grabbed a piece of glass, the same length as the dagger and rolled on top of Loki's body, straddling him. In a matter of seconds, she had it pressed against his throat, watching a single drop of blood running down his skin. Loki smirked and observed her.

"Bad girl…you should…" His words caught in his throat as he felt Natasha's knee against his core, pushing softly. He swallowed hard at it.

The redhead leant against his body, his green eyes icy and sharp as the best daggers and swords in Asgard. The grip on the glass tightened, careful not to cut herself before she hissed.

"We should have killed you. Or I should have done it. For New York. For Clint" Natasha smirked darkly. "It all ends here. Tricks, gifts, games. Everything. If you think for one second, I will beg to you, you're terribly wrong"

Loki considered his options, the different possibilities and advantages he had against her. He had been a fool, thinking he had everything under control. His features turned into a grimace when he heard her words, eyes widening at the pressure of his knee against that delicate place in his body.

Suddenly, his own body vanished, and Barton's took his place. It was all an illusion, a terribly real one. Natasha faced his best friend's features, eyes observing her as if he was really threatened.

"Natasha…what are _you_ doing?"

The Widow knew it was all an illusion, a magic trick. Still, for the brief of seconds she blinked. Images of Clint being tortured flooded her mind, but her grip did not falter. Still, that was what Loki needed to cast a copy of himself behind both of them and hit the spy's back before vanishing. Natasha groaned and the God took advantage of it, grabbing her wrist and twisting it, getting the glass away from his neck. His legs moved and rolled both, so it was Natasha's turn to be against the ground, with her face a few millimetres away from a trail of small glasses. He took both wrists and pressed them above her head while thousands of copies with Loki's form surrounded them, darkening the scene in which he was dominating the situation.

"You are nothing" she snapped, glaring at the copies before placing her shiny green eyes on his again. "Your ego, claiming you deserve a throne when you have nothing" she hissed, trying to get free. "We should have killed you"

"Maybe you should have done it" Loki snarled, the copies casting cruel smiles to the spy, who tried to free herself from his iron grip. Was this the ending of the infamous Black Widow? Alone, in an abandoned building? "But I serve a greater purpose than death itself"

Loki grabbed one of the glasses, thin and sharp as his own blades and pressed it almost delicately against her skin until it broke it. Natasha growled and tried to push him, but the God was too heavy for someone the size of the Widow. He traced a single line against the clavicle, enjoying the sight of the red fluid running to her clothes.

Natasha Romanoff had earned a name. She was not the Black Widow for nothing, and she had endured worse tortures than that. The spy tried to maintain a mask of indifference, cold and defiant to the God.

Looking into his eyes, those feral and maniac eyes that seemed to glint with the idea of having defeated one of the Avengers. Not only an Avenger but the one that had carried his sceptre. She saw the rage, the anger. Odin, New York, everything.

"This will be my last present. I'll leave you a mark that will remind you time and time again that I'm alive and that you are nothing against me" he snarled as he pressed the glass against her skin again.

Natasha bit her lip until she tasted blood, nostrils flaring due to her heavy breathing. He was enjoying it, that was for sure. And she was not going to let him hear her pleading, begging. Those pain noises would go with her to Hell, if it was necessary.

Loki didn't know how they had got to that moment. There was something inside him that wanted to make the spy suffer, hurt her. Yet, there was something else that did not allow it. There was something in Natasha the God was not able to understand. After all these days, everything had changed, he didn't want it to keep changing. Whatever their future was, that day would determine it.

Her green eyes moved to his features, sharp and cold, like a dagger capable of tearing Loki to pieces. If looks could kill, the God would be certainly dead, unlike the moment when he faked his death in front of Thor and the dark elves. Natasha hissed and moved her head closer, not tearing his eyes from his.

"You might have given me a gift, Loki. But this is mine"

The Black Widow hit his nose with her forehead, feeling dizzy at the pain caused by the movement. Certainly, he was a God, as an attack like that wouldn't have caused such hurt in her head. Loki grunted and shifted, allowing Natasha to turn her head and bite his arm, clawing her teeth until the skin broke, tasting the blood in her mouth.

Her boots pressed against his upper body and pushed him to the side, taking advantage of his momentary faltering pose. She stood up and felt the adrenaline running over her limbs, allowing her to run as fast as she could, trying to escape from the mad God that she had left behind. Her hand was covering her wound, bleeding over her clothes. The copies observed the Russian before fading.

Loki was grabbing his arm with his free hand, astonished. _She had bitten him. A mere mortal._ He cursed in Old Norse when he lost sight of Natasha and stood up, walking around the building. It was supposed to be an apartment and even some of the rooms were built, but apparently, they ran out of money.

"Stop the illusions. Now I'm angry" Loki growled, hoping she would hear him, fisting his hands and sending a green sparkle around him, hitting the walls and the few objects that might interfere in his way. She was injured, she wouldn't get far. Besides, he was still an Asgardian prince, a God. If the Black Widow wanted to get rid of him, she'd need more.

Natasha was running as quietly as she could, hiding between the walls and the objects she found, thanking the shadows that were forming with the sunset, an orange light in the horizon. Her heart was beating hard against her ribs and she turned head briefly. Soon, she saw the stairs at the end of the corridor.

At first, Loki's steps had been calm and quiet. But as seconds passed, his rage ran through his veins, destroying everything he would encounter in his way. His sly and maniac smirk came back to his features, noticing she had no escape. He took his dagger, playing with it between his long fingers as he walked slowly.

"You really think you can escape from me, Agent Romanoff?" Natasha turned and lifted her chin defiantly. When Loki was close enough, he erased all resistance from the spy by pushing her against the wall, his body impeding any further escape and a free hand grabbing her by the throat.

"I've run away from men worse than you" she spit, feeling her blood-stained fingers sticking as she tried to move his hand again, swallowing hard while adrenaline ran through her veins. Natasha was completely aware that he could break her neck easily.

He took the dagger and pressed the tip against her side, caressing her hip with it while his greenish eyes, shining like emeralds, bore into hers. He wanted to see a glimpse of fear, hear a simple plea but Natasha simply kept staring at him, almost unaffected, her eyes and features a mask of marble. He turned the dagger and pressed the handle to the open wound.

What could she do to stop him from killing her? If Loki, God of Mischief, had wanted to cut that thin thread between life and death, he could have done it. Sooner or later, he could have finished her off. And maybe, he would regret not doing it at that moment.

The dagger vanished and the grip he had on her neck loosened, but his cold eyes were still observing her, menacing and cruel. Loki was not sparing her life but was not forgiving himself either.

He simply could not kill the Black Widow.

Natasha Romanoff observed the doubting gaze and she frowned, noticing Loki's eyes running over her features. Why hadn't killed her already? She was a mortal, harmed and with no escape. It would be as simple as dig the weapon, breaking her heart. Literally. Do what nobody had done before.

His lips got closer to her ear, cold breath against warm skin. Fire and Ice. Natasha tried to stop the shiver that wanted to go down her spine and Loki whispered.

"Consider yourself saved"

_What the…_

She didn't understand. She knew about that man. His rage and hate towards Midgard and humanity. Towards the Avengers.

Without moving, she whispered,

"Why?"

The question floated in the air while Loki took deep breaths, the tone of her voice still in his mind. _Why?_

Loki stared at her for a few minutes, causing discomfort in Natasha. He was trying to find an answer, but it was not enough to reply. Sometimes he didn't know if he hated the Widow or if his hatred was a mirage.

Natasha's brain didn't stop working, trying to find an escape from that maniac, knowing he had the advantage of his other-worldly physical strange and his magic. She could feel the blood running down her skin, getting cold and hard, like a shell.

His fingertips caressed the soft and creamy skin of her neck, but not in a delicately manner. It was rough. Loki didn't trust her and even if she was not in her best scenario, he knew the Black Widow always had a plan. Dying didn't have to be something purely physical. To him, Natasha Romanoff was dead and at that moment, he could make it real. But then, what?

Why did it feel like the absence of the spy would leave an emptiness inside him?

His eyes observed her features, still with that yearning of hearing her begging for her life, only having a defiant stare in return. Moreover, now that her whole existence depended on him, he didn't feel the same satisfaction. He pressed his lips together, enraged because of his incapability to find a reason to kill her, even though he believed he had plenty.

"Killing you would be so easy. I want to play with you, make your life miserable as if you were a mere puppet in my personal collection"

"Good luck with that. Many tried before you and none achieved its goal" She was lying, of course. Pretending she could escape from everything. That was the way she had been trained. Always trying to run away, to survive. A lonely black widow on her web.

He took Natasha's hands, feeling her body shaking against his restraints, trying to free herself. Loki smirked. Was _that_ what he wanted? Maybe it wasn't after all. He knew the Widow would never allow it. He let her hands go, watching as she rubbed her wrists while keeping her emerald eyes on him. In that moment, Natasha knew that all the masks would tear and break into pieces. Everything would change. She had no idea of the consequence of that situation and she didn't like it.

"From now on I will do whatever I please with you, Natasha. And if you try to object, impede it or you stop amusing me, or you think I can't take what's mine…" his smirk grew up wider and Loki placed his hands on the wall, caging her. "O what I deserve…I won't kill you, no. I will kill all those you love. Like Barton. Even your beloved cat" His smile became ruthless and he chuckled. "You won't do anything to stop me, because you'll never know when I'll start or finish"

When he stopped talking, Natasha swallowed hard, keeping her indifferent façade while his inner self shivered in fear. She had been a witness of his power before. Who could say that Loki would not invade Clint's mind again? Yet, she did what she was good at:

Hiding her emotions.

She laughed cooly, staring at his eyes, sharp and deadly.

"I'm not your toy, Loki. And I will never will" Her voice lowered into a mere and bloodcurdling whisper. "Touch those I love and maybe I'll finish the job" She smiled, and Loki frowned. "I might do it now"

Her leg swept his own and he stumbled backwards, trying to keep his balance. Natasha took that moment to run towards the stairs, using one of her hooks around the handrail, jumping into the abyss to the first floor. She couldn't waste much time.

Loki stayed in place, breathing heavily and turning to the point where he had held Natasha against the wall. His heart was beating fast and hard against his ribs and he tried to calm down, clearing his throat and shaking his head, smirking.

The Black Widow. What a delicious toy he had found.

And she had still to survive.

* * *

"We're ready, sir"

"Good. Wait to my signal"

The man and his subordinates were in one of the rooftops around Natasha Romanoff's building in Hell's Kitchen. The mysterious man with blue eyes and black hair had sent him a message, telling him to prepare everything. Less than half an hour ago, he had received another message.

_Is everything ready?_

_She's coming._

Oh, yes. They were definitely ready.

"We notice movement, sir. The Widow has been seen getting inside the building"

"Good" he replied with a smile, taking his own weapon sniper sight, aiming at one of the windows, the kitchen's, if he was correct. He was almost seeing the money he'd receive for that. And the fame. The man who could take the infamous Black Widow down.

He placed his finger on the trigger.

And shot.


	6. The night

**A/n: Sorry for the delay! I've been quite running out of inspiration lately. Anyway, I hope you all like it and you can send me requests if you want to!**

**TW: Violence, fights.**

**Words: 1,625.**

* * *

Natasha Romanoff walked down the streets of New York with her hand against the collarbone. The blood had tainted her skin, getting sticky and smelly. Her body ached due to the fight and the impact against the table.

_Damned Asgardian_, she thought while wandering around the neighbourhood, using her abilities to go unnoticed. She only wanted to get to the safe house and clean the wound. That way, she would be able to take the bath she deserved. Cars passed by her side and tourists moved, trying to avoid colliding with her body. That was good. Just a few more blocks before she could get home. Thank God it was dark already.

Her tired steps led her to the stairs, which she took to her rusty and unnoticed apartment. Nobody knew her or had seen her and that was what she wanted on a safe house. That's what she was good at. Hiding in full sight.

Natasha opened the door and closed it, placing the door chain in its place. She was tired and wanted to slump on the couch. The apartment was completely silent, and nothing could be heard. Yet, something was off.

Natasha Romanoff held the Black Widow title for a reason. She was a spy and had been in too many adventures and missions to be fooled. There was something wrong and she couldn't guess what it was. The apartment was clear, empty. Nobody there, that was for sure. Yet, why didn't she feel welcomed at all?

Her feet led to the window and she pressed her body against a wall, taking a deep breath before pulling the curtain aside briefly. Yet, it was enough for her to see what was going on. They were professionals, of course, but they were not as good as they thought. She had to do something and do it quickly.

Her brain started to think as she moved to one of her hidden places, taking two guns and two batteries for her Widow's bites. Her time was running out and she had to act first. Natasha walked to the kitchen and took a deep breath before walking to the window, pulling the curtain aside.

Then, she heard it.

She had protected herself against the wall and soon the sound of broken glass filled the room, along with the bullets. The Russian ducked her body and ran towards the other side of the apartment, where a fire escape would lead her to the roof.

Once the night's cold air hit her face, she breathed calmly, positioning herself. That allowed her to hide herself from the attackers while taking her own guns and the silencer. Her mind wondered who had sent them. An old enemy? Hydra? The list was never-ending. She could stay guessing all night and she wouldn't get a satisfying answer.

She took the gun and breathed, feeling the air through her nose and lips before her finger pulled the trigger. One of the men fell and before the other could notice what was happening, he was dead too.

_One more to go._

Her steps were stealthy, a mere whisper in the darkness. She hid in the shadows and walked carefully to where the last of the attackers was. The man was holding his rifle and she pointed at him with her blasters. The Widow's bites sent a shock through his body and he groaned, falling on the ground.

Natasha approached him with her own gun pointing at his shoulder, just in case he dared to attack her back. She kicked his boot, glaring at him.

"Who sent you?"

Before she could notice, the man kicked her stomach and sent her to the ground. A purple glimmer surrounded him, and she blinked, frowning in confusion. What the hell was that? She grabbed her batons as quick as she could, and the lights glowed in the darkness.

The man was quick and skilled and threw her punches that the Widow avoided easily. She used her batons to hit him, but it seemed the electricity didn't affect him, causing her to gasp inaudibly. The attacker punched her collarbone and Natasha groaned in pain, as it hit the previous wound from her fight with Loki.

Natasha felt she was not winning that battle, and she didn't know why. The wound was not severe enough to incapacitate her. It was as if her tactics were doing no harm to the attacker and she wondered about what kind of technology he was using.

He kicked her stomach and the spy fell on the ground, groaning. Natasha could hear his steps and soon a hand grabbed her by the throat, choking her. The Widow tried to get away from his grip and raised her knee to his chest.

"Who…paid you?" whispered as air faltered in her lungs. The man behind the mask only chuckled, saying nothing else.

Then, everything changed.

Without barely blinking, the attacker tossed Natasha out of the rooftop, watching as her body collided with the fire escape. The iron bars hit her in different places, and she curled, trying to diminish the possible damages in her body. The woman ended up fallen in the stairs, her batons glowing in the darkness. Her chest heaved as she tried to breath properly, knowing she had at least one broken rib. She moved her hand and took her phone, pressing a button and keeping it inside her pocket again.

The man observed his job proudly and took a detonator. Suddenly, a nearby building was on fire and screams were heard over the neighbourhood. The firefighters would come soon, and the medical services would receive an anonymous call in which they would receive information regarding a harmed woman in a fire escape.

He took a last glance at the woman's body; she would survive. He knew who she was. From the very first encounter with the mysterious man who had paid him a scandalous amount of money for it.

The Black Widow had dangerous enemies after all.

The mercenary looked around him and pressed the com in his ear, muttering some orders to clean the area and get his companions to recover. He took his rifle and kept it in its case, hearing the sirens nearby. He smiled and ran, hiding himself in the shadows from the lights and the people who had started gathering around the area.

Soon, he was nowhere to be seen.

Natasha took a deep breath, slowly, trying to measure the damages. She had at least one broken rib, that was for sure. But she didn't feel as if any of her limbs were broken. When the explosion lightened her face, she opened her eyes, horrified. A silent witness of the terror and the tragedy.

She pressed her lips in a thin line and closed her eyes, feeling her body heavy and her head dizzy. Soon, she fell unconscious in Morpheus' arms.

* * *

A lean figure moved down the crowed streets, pretending to look for something in the shop windows. He was wearing a pea coat with a green scarf and a nicely tailored suit that fitted his slim appearance. His hair fell over his shoulders in soft curls. The man glanced at his watch, counting the seconds.

If the mercenary was correct, the Agent would be harmed by now. He couldn't help but smile at the idea of it and what would it come after that.

The sound of the explosion echoed in his ears and the smirk grew wider, turning to see the large ball of fire in the dark sky. He observed how several pieces fell from the building and memories of New York came to his mind.

_Stop that._

He shook his head and faked a terrified reaction, muttering about who would do something like that. Spreading the panic. Why letting them think it was a malfunction of any electronic device those Midgardians loved when he could taint their minds and souls with fear?

There was nothing more malleable than fear.

People stopped in their tracks and looked at the burned building, hearing the sirens and whispering. Instead of walking, keep going to their places, they stared in awe at the disgrace. Some had their eyes glued to the fire, others turned their heads to see if the ambulance was coming. Other simply took their phones and recorded it.

Oh, the cruel morbidity of the human race. And _he_ was considered the monster? How ironic mortals could be.

The devilish device vibrated, and Loki took it from his pocket, reading the incoming message. He smirked like a madman at the words and hummed, tapping gently on the screen, watching as the transference was 'made'. Obviously, there was no real bank nor money. It was all magic. But he had his reward and Loki could keep going with his plan.

_The Widow's down_.

Written words had never felt sweeter to his eyes.

Loki Odinson observed the crowd and watched as an ambulance arrived, looking for possible survivors and injured people. He wished to stay. He _craved_ it. He wanted to see the infamous Black Widow, hopeless and defeated.

Yet, he urged himself to wait and moved between the curious people, a smooth movement nobody would remember him nor would watch him go. His long legs led him to a less crowded place, and he stared at the sky, chuckling softly. His plan was working perfectly. Maybe fate has smiling at him for once.

The Widow had fallen. The snaked had attacked and had won. Revenge never tasted better. And yet, he felt their battle of wits had just started.

Loki Odinson resumed his calmed pace, with his hands inside his pockets, leading to a restaurant.

This needed a glass of the finest wine in the city.


	7. The hospital

**A/N: ****Hi everyone! I'm sorry for the delay but I am Spanish and the country is in a lockdown due to the COVID-19 virus so you can imagine. We've had to get used to the situation. Please, stay safe out there, wash your hands and stay home if you can.**

**Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter with our favourite God of Mischief and the wonderful Black Widow! As always, feel free to comment, reply or send me requests if you want! Now I'll have more time to write.**

**Love xx**

**Words: 2,641**

**Warnings: None.**

* * *

_Tick._

_Tock._

_Tick._

_Tock._

Drops. The IV. Steps. On the hallway. Hushed voices from the doctors and nurses. The clock. A fainted noise. Is it a TV? Sounds like Downton Abbey. Happy would like that.

Her chest moved heavily with each breath she took. The machines around her beeped calmly. Her pulse was steady, nothing out of control. Red locks on the white pillow. Blood on the snow.

_When was the last time…? Oh, yes. Rose. _

A bandage on her collarbone. Hands on the sheets. Medical clothes. Some scratches on her face. A possible bruise forming somewhere in her body. A broken rib. Cleaned body. Weight on the mattress.

Natalia Romanova lay on the bed, surrounded by medical devices. She had an IV in her arm and a blanket covered her body. Her chest hitched and she coughed repeatedly, while a nurse ran to her side.

"Miss Romanoff! You're awake!"

"Where am I?" Natasha muttered with a hoarse voice, staring around her. White lights. White walls flashing before her eyes. A pair of hands on her shoulders.

"New York Metropolitan Hospital" the woman muttered, noting down Natasha's rising pulse and her reactions. "You were found near a building. We received an anonymous call"

_What._

That didn't make sense.

Why the hell would a mercenary push her off a rooftop and then call the paramedics? Her enemies wanted her death, not visiting the hospital. She was sure that the man could have ended her if he wanted to. Why was she alive?

The nurse mumbled something about warning her doctor about her awakening, but Natasha was not listening anymore. Her brain was working on deciphering memories and any clue that might help her in this mission.

Because it was a mission, right? They had attacked her in one of her safe houses. If that was not a mission, Natasha didn't know what it was.

The following hours passed in a rush with the bustle of doctors and nurses. She loathed it. She hated being in bed, doing nothing. She needed to get up and patch herself. Get on her feet again and show those men who was the Black Widow.

It wasn't that difficult, right?

Natasha Romanoff sighed and let her body fall against the pillows, staring at the aseptic ceiling, calculating her next movement.

* * *

He smiled and exited the cafeteria with the paper bag in his hand, walking happily down the street. It was a rare occasion in which his lips were curved into the biggest grin of his whole life.

He felt content. Finally, Midgard was offering something to get over his boredom. And the woman had resulted to be a delightful entertainment. Something inside him boiled with excitement at the idea of witnessing the results of the attack. He finished his coffee and muffin and kept walking.

The New York Metropolitan Hospital.

The building was lit by hundreds of lights. Loki wondered how many patients would be there and their stories. He asked himself if the people injured by his attack on the city would go to that hospital. He imagined for a brief moment parents hugging their children for the last time and he remembered the battles in Asgard. The injuries, those who didn't survive and the mourning.

The God shook his head to clean his mind of such gloomy thoughts. It did nothing to him or his plan, so it was useless to think about it. Past was past. And now, he had to play.

Loki couldn't wait and had checked the hospital's visiting hours. Should he bring a flower with him? Probably Natasha would smash a glass on his head if he did. He'd love to see that. To see how dangerous the Black Widow could be even if she was injured. Possibly she'd be even more threatening.

The God went inside the building and gave a nickname, taking a SHIELD ID from his pocket. Humans were so easy to deceive. Especially when he was the God of Lies himself. His lips were curved into a smirk the whole way to Natasha's room, where she waited. He wondered how she'd look. What her reaction would be? Tired? Angry? Disappointed?

He had made sure he was the first visitor, after all.

His smile grew wider when he was in front of her door and he cleared his throat, taking a deep breath. Why were his fingers tingling? Why was that excitation in his veins? He had seen the spy recently. He had even been with her, attacking her. Norns, would she have a scar in her clavicle? Probably she did.

He composed himself and cleared his throat again, his face a mask of serenity and no emotions visible. Loki raised his hand and knocked on the door, getting inside before Natasha Romanoff even had the chance to reply.

* * *

The Black Widow had been in that room for what? Eight hours? She didn't know. She didn't want to know. The only worry she had was finding a way out the hospital. She was fine, she had had worse during her whole life. She had even been almost dead. It would be fine.

She had refused to watch TV, knowing there was nothing she wanted to see. Rubbish. The plaster ceiling was more interesting than that. She remembered a documentary about the KGB, and she had laughed so hard the neighbours had complained.

When she was about to stand up, boring in a tedious evening, someone knocked on the door. Natasha wondered who could be and tensed, thinking it could be someone to finish the job. Her mind also thought of Clint, Steve or any of her colleagues coming to see her. That idea lifted her spirits.

Yet, her face fell when she observed the tall figure coming into the room. He was wearing a black suit, possibly designer, and a scarf, similar to that of Stuttgart. The spy composed herself and feigned coldness at his appearance.

On the other hand, Loki had to suppress the smile of satisfaction that wanted to adorn his features. The man he had hired had proven himself worthy of the money Loki had conjured. The Russian woman had several bruises over the little skin visible to him. Her plump lips were even more swollen and red. A bandage covered her collarbone and Loki felt his fingertips tickling. He wanted to reach out, move his hand and run his fingers over the scarred skin. He wanted to feel what he had done to the infamous Black Widow.

"I came here as soon as I heard, Natasha. I always thought I'll feel delight knowing you're injured but…" The God stepped and sat down near the bed, staring at her. "What happened?"

"Cut the bullshit and your little theatre thing, puny God. I know you're more than happy" she growled, her tone cold and caustic. She was tired, her body damaged, and Loki was the last person she wanted there. She turned her face to stare at the window and kept the same tone. "I was attacked at home. Tried to defend me. Something went wrong. And then I ended up being thrown off a rooftop" She looked at him, defiant and enraged, with the scar in her collarbone burning. "C'mon, laugh. I know you want to"

Loki didn't open his mouth. Actually, he limited himself to looking at her, her body, the cuts and bruises in those visible areas. But he was certain there would be more, covered by the blankets and the hospital clothes. His gaze stopped at the bandage in her collarbone. It had been the perfect moment to hire the man. Loki had doubted about his abilities but either his former fight with the Widow had helped or the mercenary was more skilled than he had thought.

The God stood up and placed his hands inside his pockets, walking to the window and leaning against it, watching the woman in the bed.

"I'd be happy if I wanted you dead. You know my methodology is different. I don't like the idea of someone else risking your life"

"Yeah, I know. Only you can hurt me, blah, blah"

She didn't know if it was due to the pain, Loki's presence or the meds, but she was not in the mood to deal with bullshit. Not after the things that had happened in that abandoned building. Natasha observed him and his lean figure approaching the window.

The trickster was still a puzzle that only the Black Widow could resolve. At least that was what she thought. And every encounter she had with the God made the feelings stronger and more intense.

Loki turned and looked outside the window. It was then when he allowed himself to lift his lips in a tiny smile. Another mirror. Another reflection. But this time it was not the deadly and impressive assassin that was between his body and the glass. It was a vulnerable spy, laying on bed, hurt.

He left the spot and walked towards the bed, leaning his features to observe the woman on the bed

"I didn't come to mock at you, just to keep you company. I'm not always who you think I am" He replied, running a finger over the collarbone, just above the bandage, almost caringly. The icy skin sent shivers down Natasha's body and she kept herself still, glaring at him. "Did anybody else came to see you? I expected some roses and sentimentalism decorating the room"

"Company, of course. Especially after you stabbed me with a glass and threw me on a table. Sure. Now you'll tell me you worry about me" she huffed, shaking her head and composing herself, not daring to allow him to notice her disappointment at the lack of visitors. "Not yet. Ironically, you are the first one. Congratulations" she added with an icy smile before turning her gaze again.

The lies he told himself were different from the lies he told to others. The way Loki acted was different from moment to moment and even then, Loki changed the rules in his mind. It was all about winning, wasn't it? Now he stared at the defenceless Widow. Their hands were tainted with blood and suffering. He was not who she thought he was, and she was not a hero to his eyes. What made them different?

"If I didn't care about you, I wouldn't be here. Natasha, look at me. I am still me. I don't tend to visit sick people in hospitals, especially not an Avenger" he replied, not caring to stop the feeling of satisfaction that spread down his veins.

And yet, behind that fragile appearance, she was still looking composed. Loki Laufeyson never knew when he had trespassed her defences. He had seen her masks cracking, but when he thought he was able to get rid of it, Natasha Romanoff had changed and was never the same.

Natasha pondered about his words, not daring to say he was right. Loki was not the kind of person that would visit someone in a hospital. Especially an Avenger, and more specifically, Natasha.

_I am still me_. That was the problem. He was still the God of Lies.

Natasha didn't say anything else. She closed her hands in fists and stared at the dripper. The spy hated being in that state in front of him. Injured, defenceless. Weak. Her gaze was enough to scare someone and still she felt it was not her full self.

The Black Widow didn't want to let him in. During her whole life, she had learnt to build walls and masks that would allow people to come in. Walls that would not disappear, even if the other person thought it had. And even if the God didn't want to believe her, Natasha knew more about who he really was than he wanted to admit.

She crossed her arms and stared at him.

"Now you'll say you'd feel sad if I died"

"Some people regret not dying when they have the chance. I hope that's not your case" he said with a brief smile before his eyes opened in a feigned surprise. "The first one! I'm really honoured. It's a pleasant surprise, you must be truly delighted. I'm sure your friends will be searching for the man who did this" Loki said with his green eyes shining in amusement. "Do you want me to bring you something? Maybe we could start to get on well"

When Natasha heard his words, she felt the rage boiling in her veins. Yes, he was the first one visiting her and that felt even more bitter than his presence there. The Widow noticed a weird glint in his features when he spoke about the attack and she decided to measure her words, frowning while her brain analysed his expression.

"Yes, everything was recorded"

Natasha huffed and shook her head. She needed a coffee or something sweet. Or real food. But obviously, she was not going to tell him that.

"No, I don't want anything from you. And allow me to laugh at the idea of being friends"

Opposite to what Natasha believed, he would feel sad about her death. She was actually a source of amusement, after all. That was something he had never expected when his brother brought him to Midgard to "pay for his crimes"

Pay for his crimes. He had even done Loki a favour.

The God leant against one of the white walls of the room, close to the spy.

"I'd feel sad about your death" he admitted with a tone of sarcasm in his voice, staring at the room. "Do you want me to take you out of here? It must be frustrating to be here so many hours, imprisoned. It looks like in any moment these walls will absorb you" He touched the wall with his fingertips, making a grimace. "It's like a punishment"

With those last words, Loki moved away from the wall, walking to the door and turning with a dazzling smile, staring at the red-haired woman and her injured body. Her green eyes were on fire and glared at him with hate, which he enjoyed. She even huffed.

Natasha Romanova wouldn't admit it, but he was right. The white walls, the machines, the noises, the asphyxiating atmosphere. She wanted to get out of there, but she couldn't yet. She needed to make a plan and try to regain her strengths before walking out the place. Her whole body hurt like hell.

"It's a shame I don't care about what you want. I'll see what's out there and I'll bring you something"

When she saw that smile, she wished she had something to throw at him. The image of a vessel breaking into his skull was like a dream to her. She grabbed her sheets and she raised her voice as Loki walked to the exit.

"I don't want anything yours. Don't you dare to come back"

He went out and closed the door behind him, walking down the corridors and taking the lift to the hall, getting out the hospital. Natasha sighed and let her body fall on the pillows. If she had to see the God again, she'd kill him with her bare hands. She turned her head to the window, observing the sky.

She had to get out of there.

Meanwhile, the God was already outside, enjoying the sunny day. Loki just wanted to see the results and the Widow's state. And her situation was completely satisfactory to him. If everything went as he planned and Hunter worked with him again, that wouldn't be the last time.

Yet, she would not be sent to the hospital.

The God of Mischief took a last look at the hospital. He wouldn't come back with food as he had promised. Not until the following day.


	8. The chat

**A/N: I don't know if I said this before, but this story is set right after Ragnarok, just the Asgardians arrived peacefully to Midgard and they settled in Norway. I don't know how I'll figure out the dates but more or less…well, you know. Also, this story has Comic!Clint, not MCU. And some of Natasha's features and characteristics and also based in the comics.**

**Warnings: None**

**Words: 3,513**

* * *

He didn't come back.

Not after a day had passed. He wondered if Natasha missed him. Surely she did, he thought. He gave her an entertainment, an intellectual challenge. He was sure she felt the same spark between them when they spoke. At least he was amused thinking of that.

He left the Starbucks with a coffee in his hand and a paper bag on the other, enjoying the small pleasures of Midgardian foods and beverages. It wasn't that bad after all, if one got used to the noise, the pollution and the insignificant lives of the people that surrounded him. They did not deserve a God among them, less the God of Mischief and Lies.

But his brother had been sure about living in Midgard, that planet having a special place in his heart and Loki could not refuse. Bruce had returned to the Avengers and Thor and Valkyrie worked together to build New Asgard but Loki decided to wander around the planet, observing what he had tried to destroy years ago.

He sipped the drink he had ordered, remembering the conversation he had had with the spy days before he met Hunter to hire him. He had been given a foreign artefact called smartphone in order to be able to contact anyone he wanted to. Not that the Avengers had not argued about that.

Was it really a good idea to give a phone to the biggest Trickster in the nine realms? Tony didn't think so. Yet, Thor had defended him, _again_. Of course he did. That fool saw the good in everyone, even Loki. It seemed that being stabbed ─literally─ several times was not enough warning.

One night he had been bored, enjoying a cup of chocolate and a piece of cake in one of those so-called Starbucks when an idea popped in his mind. He smirked and picked up his device, reading his contacts. And there she was.

**Romanova, N.**

_"I'm in one of those Starbucks. I'm waiting"_

The answer didn't take long to come.

_"You can wait your whole life if you want to. I don't care"_

_"Ah, agent Romanoff. You break my heart"_

_"Oh, you have one?"_

Loki had smiled at that message, chuckling and shaking his head before taking a sip of his drink, looking around him with his eyes covered by sunglasses. She was definitely a little toy he enjoyed.

_"You should come. I could destroy them"_

_"No, you wouldn't"_

_"You sure, Agent Romanoff?"_

_"I have more important things to do than babysitting a God throwing a tantrum"_

He was glad he had not destroyed them. The food was not bad after all and he had an excuse to go back to the Metropolitan Hospital. Two coffees and two delicious muffins. Yet, he didn't use his real form this time. Oh, no. This time he used the physical appearance of Natasha's dear friend Clint Barton.

Maybe this way the treatment would be different, at least for a few minutes. Besides, he could even be amused with her reaction. There was no harm in that, right? After those two days SHIELD and her fellow Avengers would know and every single one could visit her without people getting suspicious.

He could even face the possible problem of the real archer already being in that room, but Loki decided he wanted to play, so he knocked on the door, his face appearing first, watching the agent near the window, probably disobeying healer's orders of staying in bed. He smiled as Barton would do and waited for her reaction.

"May I come in?" he said, shaking the paper bag with the food carefully.

Oh, it had been completely worthy. Natasha's features changed and he could feel the relief running down her veins. Her face was warmer, and her greenish eyes shone bright when she observed the man getting inside the room. A sincere smile grew up in her lips and she opened her arms to him.

"Clint! You came! And with food!" she added when she had seen the bags.

Natasha had spent the two previous days in a mixture of pain and medication she loathed. She needed her sense sharp and agile. She had been attacked after all, what if they tried to finish the job? Yet, Tony had sent two SHIELD agents to be near her room, just in case. Still, she needed to get out of there. She felt uneasy and anxious in that sterile room, with its white walls and the muffled sounds coming from the corridor. Especially after Loki's visit.

She still couldn't believe his nerve. How _dared_ him to come to the hospital as if nothing had happened? Natasha placed her hand on the bandage that covered her clavicle and remember that moment when the glass cut the skin. The blood tainting the clothes. The ferrous smell. That damned bastard.

Natasha Romanoff was used to wearing masks to protect herself. Yet, she found that doing it with the God of Mischief was tiring and left her completely exhausted. It had become more and more difficult to do so.

She had refused to stay in bed and decided to stand up and walk to the window, feeling waves of pain running down her body. She ignored them and stayed there, watching as people came and went. She didn't know how long it had been until Clint knocked.

Loki thought that it might not be that bad and uncomfortable to be in a mortal's body like Barton. He was even surprised that he felt content and satisfied when he observed the spy's smile. And it was all because of him. Well, not the real him, but still.

He wasn't planning of having Barton's appearing for a long time. He wanted to hold Natasha's trust, as if it were the tautness of the arrow, aim and hit the mark in her weak spot.

Surprise, it wasn't her loyal friend Barton, but the "monster" who had come to see her again.

The idea even amused him.

Natasha was different with Barton but that was no surprise. The archer had worked hard to gain her trust and friendship, while the God had only injured her in the short time they spent together.

Loki left the bags on the table near the bed and walked to the spy, hugging her carefully not to harm her anymore, smiling. They sat down in the bed and kept hugging the woman.

"You are still a hard nut to crack" he said, using an expression he had heard during his time in Midgard.

"You didn't have to worry" Natasha said pointing at the paper bags with her chin, and "Clint's" smile grew wider.

"How am I not going to worry about you? I came as soon as I could" He kept quiet for a brief moment and shook his head, staring at the spy.

Natasha had taken the bags, opening it and closing her eyes at the sweet smell of the muffins inside. Blueberry muffins, her personal favourite. She also took the coffee cup and took a sip, making an appreciation noise.

"_Bozhe moi_, thank you. I owe you one. If I had to keep drinking water, I'd go mad" she joked, smiling at his friend before she bit the delicious muffin. Loki smiled and took a sip of his own, enjoying that Midgardian pleasure on his own.

"You should ask for a better treatment rather than soups and water. Sometimes I think they forget about the patient and try these culinary tortures" He paused briefly before he spoke again. Yet, Natasha frowned at the way he had used English language. Since when Clint spoke like that? "What happened? Who did this to you?" That question would be only the beginning. He was more than eager to get inside her, in a close and friendly way. And maybe, in the end, he'll surprise her.

When Natasha heard the question, she sighed and closed her eyes, placing the food on the small table near her bed, her hand moving to her collarbone. It was like an instinct now.

"Loki attacked me. He made me this…and then I went to one of my safe houses in Hell's Kitchen. I knew something was wrong. I went out just in time to see a group of men in a nearby building. Snipers. Mercenaries" she added quite harshly, but confident. Loki was impressed but the Black Widow had earned that name for a reason. "I tried to defend myself but…"

Natasha Romanoff straightened her back, clearing her throat. It was not easy for her ego to admit she had been defeated. But she was sure something else had been involved. That strange suit…She pressed her lips in a thin line and smiled, shaking her head and tried to belittle it.

"Anyway, thanks for coming. You made my day"

Loki shook his head and turned his eyes to the ground, despite still having his attention on Natasha. His plan had been to create a perfect illusion on Natasha, to make her happy before taking that happiness away from her, like taking a candy from a kid. He hadn't even planned to be there, eating muffins with the Widow, but there he was. And for some reason, he didn't want to take that happiness and calmness away from her, provided by Barton's presence.

"They told me about your apartment. They're looking for the man who did it" He paused briefly. "That bastard never learns" he muttered and sighed, shaking his head before turning to Natasha. "Do you think he could change?" he asked, maybe trying to answer to himself instead of being a mere question about someone whose fate is doomed.

The Black Widow's features changed when she was with Clint. He had been one of the few people who really knew her. Her eyes were warmer, even sweet. There were not as many masks as she used in her daily life. She smiled briefly and shook her head.

"No, he doesn't learn"

Neither did she. Both had pressed each other's buttons until it had snapped. Yet, she turned to his friend and frowned. Since when was Clint interested in Loki's wellbeing? She above everyone else knew how much he loathed him after what happened in New York. Why had he changed his mind?

Yet, Natasha couldn't stop the sigh that escaped her lips and looked at the wall, absentmindedly.

"I don't know, Clint? Could I?" Natasha's voice was tainted with melancholy, rage and sadness and she pressed her lips in a thin line, smiling and shaking his head before staring at her friend again, shrugging. "I mean…I'm not saying Loki could be the good guy after what he did to Earth…what he did to _you_" she added, emphasising. She swallowed hard and took a deep breath before she spoke again. "I believe he was a victim of the circumstances. As I was a victim of mine. I see rage inside him"

Natasha smiled softly and shook her head, taking her coffee and sipping softly, sighing.

"Sorry, Clint. You're probably thinking I'm mad"

Loki had to act like Barton would and maybe that question had been a mistake. But he needed to answer to himself. Not only he found in the woman's words more than he expected, but also a possibility to know her better. He hadn't thought of how he could benefit from the archer's features, but now it had started, he wasn't planning on stopping.

"What else did they do, Natasha?" he was, of course, referring to the Widow's past. "You know I hate Loki, and don't you think I like hearing you saying you two are similar. I don't know at what point you consider you are like him"

The God huffed, but the moment he found the spy's bright eyes he felt himself shattering. For one second, he thanked she couldn't see him, even though she was closer than she had ever been before. He composed himself quickly and tried to ignore the weight those words put on him.

"Yes, you're mad if you think you are like him. Not only that, if you also think that he's the victim, that his actions have a reason and that he needs to be forgiven. Loki needs no one's absolution"

He had to calm down. Nobody had been able to drive him crazy. Rare were the times where he lost control, and they were always related to his past, like the time he made Odin to tell him about his real heritage. He had to hear the truth.

The "archer" sighed and rubbed his eyes, taking a more friendly position.

"I'm sorry. It's just…" he shook his head and took Natasha's hand between his. "Both of them will pay for what they did"

Natasha Romanoff frowned and turned her body so she could face him completely, analysing his features. She placed a hand on his forehead, almost like a joke, smiling softly.

"Are you okay, Clint? You're acting…weird"

She didn't understand the reason why her closest friend would ask about her past. He knew perfectly what they had done. Well, some parts of it, of course. The same way she knew about Clint's past. There was no reason to ask that question.

Her surprised features accentuated when he heard the way his friend spoke about Loki. So vehemently, so…She didn't know. Of course, he had reasons to loathe the God of Mischief. A good one, indeed. Yet, she limited herself to shake her head, considering his friend's words. Why did she think they were alike?

She had been considered a monster for a long part of her life. Forced to serve as an assassin. Cold. Heartless. Ruthless. A puppet whose strings were controlled by others. Red Room. KGB. Did it even mattered? Maybe that was the reason why she thought Loki was similar to herself. They hadn't been the owners of their fates, just pawns in a chess game.

She pressed her lips in a thin line and shook her head, moving away from him. Listening her own words from Clint's mouth made her realise how weird it sounded. Maybe the hit in her head had been harder than she expected.

"I'm sorry I talked about this. I know you don't like this topic" Natasha felt relief and warmth when his hands took hers, a reaction not everybody could get from the Black Widow herself. She spoke firmly. "Don't worry. I'll make them pay"

Loki usually had fun with his illusions, becoming another person. This time was different from becoming Steve Rogers, throwing a tantrum or disguising as a snake or a mare. It was not only the mere presence of the spy making him act different. Playing Barton was walking on thin ice. They were close friends and Natasha would know how he spoke, he reacted, what was in his mind. Loki usually didn't mince words, he was the God of Mischief and all was a prank to him.

"No, it's just... I don't like that you think that you are like that monster" Loki didn't hesitate when he pronounced that word. He had done it before with Odin and, in that moment, he had truly believed so.

He stared at the emerald eyes of the spy, holding her gaze, squeezing her hand almost lovingly, like Barton would do. Trying to talk about Natasha's past, wanting to get inside it

and her mind would not be appropriate right now, so he decided not to keep talking about that.

"It wasn't your fault. I don't think it's the correct timing to talk about him. Even though I don't believe he came after you. When you're out, we'll go after him"

Suddenly, a spark ignited inside the God of Mischief. An idea. And from that idea something bigger grew up. Did he really want to hurt Natasha? What if he could play with her a little longer and thus, affected the Avengers?

"You won't deal with this alone. We must put him on his place, and we could do it. Together. We only have to go after him. The two of us" A glint shone in his eyes while they looked for the spy's involvement.

Natasha Romanoff frowned as she heard his friend speaking. There was something weird in Clint, as he was not behaving as usual. Let alone with her. He was clumsy, nervous. He made ridiculous questions whose answers he knew. She was even less calm when he changed the topic abruptly, but she decided not to push any further. Maybe it was her own head, tired and drugged with the medicines. And that added to the fact that she _needed_ to get out of there.

Her lips curved into a sad smile when she heard him and looked at her own hands. Monster. That was what the world thought of her. That was what everybody thought. What she once considered herself. Her hands were tainted with blood and suffering.

Maybe the God of Mischief and the Black Widow were similar after all.

Yet, when she heard Clint's proposal, she turned her head quickly, staring at him. She felt agitated at the idea, remembering her previous meeting with the God. No, she couldn't allow her closest friend to get involved in her businesses. Not only because she wanted to protect him, but because she was the Black Widow after all.

Besides, she could still hear the voice in her head. Threatening to harm every single one she loved. Using her as his personal toy. She knew what Loki was capable of and she knew he wouldn't hesitate.

Her features changed into a mask of carelessness and smiled softly, squeezing his hand and caressing his skin with her thumb.

"You know I'm a big girl. I can handle it. You don't have to come" she said with a small laugh, trying to belittle the situation. She shrugged and looked to the wall. "Maybe the best option is to mix in the crowd, you know. Stay away from him, undercover. The safest option for both of us. Believe me" she added with a smile a few had seen. "It's not necessary for you to come"

For a moment Loki felt he couldn't keep that game, he _shouldn't_, and Natasha's features were the confirmation he needed. It was as if she could read every single expression in his face. She was being honest, but he felt he could fail any time. In that moment he didn't know if he wanted to keep hurting Natasha or if he feared doing it. On the other hand, believed the only way he could get to her was through pain.

Pain could make someone real. In those moments in which you are hurt, you act with impulses, as a survival instinct. That was what he wanted from the Black Widow, because of all the things he had seen from her, the only way to destroy her unemotional mask was by putting her in danger. He knew the moment he left his own mark on her skin: a brief shadow of panic, almost imperceptible. Short enough for the God to not keep an image of it.

"I'm sorry if I said something I shouldn't" he admitted when he observed Natasha's features. "And yes, you're a big girl, but you're still in a hospital. You'll understand that doesn't make me relaxed at all" Loki lifted an eyebrow and looked around him, almost meditating. "Hiding…That might be smart, after all. But he will keep trying to hurt you. He did it once and he will not stop, and you won't be the only one"

"This is not the first time I end up in a hospital, Clint" Natasha said almost jokingly, finishing her coffee. "I know. I was in New York too, remember? I know what he's capable of. He…" The spy sighed, remembering that if she didn't do anything he wanted, her friends would pay the consequences.

Loki stood up and took Natasha's hand, relishing in the way her skin was surprisingly soft for someone who could use her hands to strangle a man. He smiled the way Barton would do.

"I want you to inform me of everything, okay? I want to know if anything happens to you" Natasha stared at him with her green eyes with a slight frown in her features and Loki tried to keep himself together. "I'll come to visit you in a few days. If you want me to do something, just tell me. I don't want anything to happen to you again"

Natasha was surprised with his abrupt reaction, but she didn't say anything as her eyes analysed her friend's behaviour. Something was different and she couldn't understand why, and that was something she hated. She had been trained for that. She was one of the very best.

She smiled almost darkly and shook her head, staring at the man with a serious gaze in her shiny eyes.

"Don't worry, Clint. Nothing else will happen to me, I promise. Because I will kill him before he touches me again"


	9. The escape

**A/N: I'm terribly sorry for the delay! I've been quite busy lately and not in the mood for writing anything! Also, I've been sick so you can imagine. I hope you are still interested in Loki and Natasha shenanigans, because we have still a hell of a ride!**

**Words: 2,814**

**Warnings: None**

* * *

The beeping sound echoed in the room. Constantly. It was something she couldn't get rid of. The incessant noise of the different machines attached to her body. The aseptic smell, typical in a hospital. The quiet whispers. The shoes from one side of the corridor to the other. The occasional emergencies.

It was a scheduled life.

Morning, pills and breakfast. Lunch, more pills. Dinner and then what? Oh, yes, more pills.

Not that Natasha swallowed them, of course. At least not all.

She knew which ones were for recovery and which for numbness. Natasha didn't want that. She needed her mind to be sharp and agile. She needed to be aware of her surroundings. Loki's visit had been a nightmare she wished she hadn't lived. He was a God, after all, and if he knew where she was, the spy couldn't feel safe.

The sky was dark and full of stars. The ward seemed empty. Calm. Quiet. Some chatting nearby, mere whispers so they didn't wake up their patients. Tired doctors and nurses after long shifts, counting the minutes to go home and rest.

Natasha stared at the opposite wall with pressed lips, frowning. She had been saving some pills so she could use them until she got to one of her safe places and could recover properly. She knew herself. She was aware she wouldn't get well in that hospital.

The Widow bit her lips when she rose slowly, pain running down her veins like lightnings. The different stitches in her body were tense due to the effort and she could feel the skin straining. Surely, she'd have blood by the time she reached her place. Her eyes scanned the room until she observed a bag on the other side. The clothes she was wearing when she was found, she supposed.

She had a few minutes before the doctors and the nurses realised that she had vanished, so she took all the devices from her body and walked to the door, grabbing her clothes. Her ears registered the beeping sound from the machines and her pace became quicker until she reached the restroom.

The spy walked to the mirror and groaned in pain, taking deep breaths through the nose. Her reflection stared back at her and Natasha grimaced. Her face was pale, her cheeks were hollow. Her red hair was dirty and still had some dust and dry blood from the fight. She was not the Black Widow, the deadly assassin, but a shadow.

She grunted and put her hair in a tight bun before she put her clothes over the hospital clothes. She needed something else to go undercover as she heard the quick steps on the corridor. Soon they'd know.

She lamented her choice of clothes and exited the room, looking around. A nurse was still running to her room and the spy knew she would reach it in a few seconds. Natasha started to walk again and thanked luck, fate or whatever was out there, for the nurses' room was empty at that moment. The redhead took a hoodie, forgotten on a chair and kept walking while putting in on, covering her hair and face.

Natasha pressed the button repeatedly and suddenly heard the anguished cry of a nurse, noticing she had left the room. The elevator's doors opened, and she slipped inside, just in time to see two SHIELD guards running to her former room. As the doors closed, a smile spread on her lips, aware of what she had done.

She stopped on the second floor and decided to use the stairs to reach the hall, aware of the guards that would be waiting for her outside the elevator. Her steps became faster as she heard doors and boots echoing in the area. Her heart bumped against her chest with the so familiar adrenaline and she got to the main hall.

The security guard from the main door was apparently quite busy with a man who seemed lost, probably due to the medication. Natasha rushed to get outside before he was informed of a red-haired woman escaping from her room.

The cool breeze of the night caressed her bruised face and the Widow smiled, closing her eyes briefly before she resumed her steps, leaving the area before someone noticed. Luckily, she had a name and a reputation as the world's greatest spy for a reason and one of her safe houses was not far away from the hospital. If she hurried, she could make it.

The building was old, not noticeable. Traces of a more glorious era were visible in the corridor, but nothing had escaped the pass of time. It had been built after WW1 and she knew its secrets. Natasha had no trouble retrieving a key from one little hole. The cement was loose and allowed her to take one of the bricks. The spy opened a door and closed behind her, walking down some stairs.

Fury had helped her, of course. She was allowed to use that old bunker from the war as a safe house under that building. If anybody discovered it, they would think her apartment was number 6C and she was connected to a secret passage from where she could get to the underground.

The lights flickered and Natasha grunted when it hit her eyes. The wounds were bleeding and the pain was increasing. She took off her clothes and left them on the floor, approaching the kettle and filling it with water before placing it on the stove. She swallowed the pills and reached for the emergency kit on a corner.

She spent the next hours patching herself, drinking and enjoying her tea and trying to relax before she had regained her senses. There were several boxes around her, filled with different stuff. Passports, money from different countries and bullets. The wall behind her had lots of guns hanging. She even had a wardrobe with clothes and wigs.

Natasha Romanov only used that safe house in special cases. She had different apartments in which she stayed for a brief period of time before she moved onto another. Being on the run was a safe way to not getting caught.

First lesson of the spy course: Stay in one lace and enemies will find you.

She took a sip of her tea and sighed before leaning against the couch, grimacing. The pain had subdued thanks to the pills and the new bandages, but still. Natasha took a laptop and pressed the keys until she found what she wanted.

"Now, asshole…let's see who dared to get into the spider's net" she muttered under her breath. Ah, there it was.

She was called the Black Widow for a reason, and the unnoticeable cameras outside her windows were an advantage. The network was connected through a safe channel to a server in the cloud that only she could use.

She was no Tony Stark, but she had her own tools.

The images were displayed in her screen and she passed them until she found what she wanted. Her green eyes observed herself getting inside the apartment, a hand pressing the wound Loki had left in her skin. Natasha snarled at the memories of the God near her.

How dared him to visit her in the hospital? Who did he think he was?

The mere memory of Loki standing near the window, feigning concern regarding her well-being was something Natasha could not bear. She had felt defenceless under his piercing eyes and she hated the idea of him thinking she was weak. She was a mortal, that was right, but she had put on a good fight.

Besides, they both knew their strengths were not purely physical but intellectual. The challenge was not a brute fight like Thor and Hulk would do, trying to discover who was stronger. No, they were not like that. They would fight to discover who had the sharpest mind, who could defeat the other in a battle of wit.

She hated the idea of people observing her with pity or as if she were weak, but she had learnt over the decades that might be a good trick, after all. The theme of the lady in need of a saviour wasn't old. Loki could think she had been defeated, that she would run with the tail between her legs to lick her wounds.

Little he knew how dangerous the Black Widow was when she was threatened.

"What the…"

She stopped the video when she noticed the men who had attacked her, preparing on the roof near her building. They were wearing combat gear, but nothing else. How was it possible that Natasha could not defeat the leader?

The time kept running when she saw herself getting on the area and shooting his companions. Natasha put the computer closer, staring at the screen until she saw a purple shine surrounding the man before the "armour" was formed. He lunged against her and the fight started.

She didn't need to see it again. Her fingers pressed the keys and winded back the movie a few seconds. She replayed the images and tried to discover what was happening before her eyes.

Was that a kind of magic? A sorcerer? Why would a sorcerer be interested in attacking her? No, it didn't make any sense. He would have used any magic to finish the job quickly. The gears of her brain kept whirring and suddenly the realisation hit her like a thunder.

There was only one man she had seen using that type of technology. A man whose land had opened recently to the rest of the world.

"Wakanda…" she whispered before she rushed to get her phone, running down her contacts. She was aware that calling might startle him, but this needed an answer.

"Agent Romanov? Isn't this a surprise? I thought it was past midnight in New York"

"Good morning, your majesty" she replied with a soft smile on her features.

"Please, just T'Challa" he said with a soft chuckle. "We talked about this before"

"Is that Natasha? Hey, Nat!" She heard Shuri on the other side of the phone and suddenly the spy felt even better.

"Hi, Shuri" she answered and waited patiently as she heard the friendly remarks between both siblings, until T'Challa's voice was over the speaker again.

"Is everything okay?"

"Kind of. I need your help"

"What happened? Are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm following a trail in a mission. SHIELD's not involved" she added, feeling the need to clarify. The man seemed to understand and cleared his throat, waiting patiently before he spoke again.

"Tell me what you need"

Natasha Romanov's eyes shone coolly as she observed at the frozen image on the computer's screen. The purple shine around the man's body, covering him. The corners of her mouth twitched in disgust at the memory of the fall and she gripped her phone tighter.

"Have you noticed recently a cargo of vibranium in the black market?"

* * *

Loki walked quietly down his apartment in Manhattan. He had found soon how Midgard worked and it wasn't difficult for him to cast all the money he needed. He used his magic to decorate it as he wished. Elegant lines predominated everywhere. Here and there he had some paintings he had come to enjoy during his visits to different museums.

Of course, Thor had asked him to stay in New Asgard with him and the rest of the population. The God spent his time between his people and the Avengers, but Loki preferred enjoying his free time alone. If he had to live in that planet, the best thing he could do was to find something to amuse himself.

And he had.

Musicals in Broadway were not bad. London's plays were adequate, and the art was pleasant. And some dishes were…interesting, to say the least. While his brother could eat a whole pig without blinking, he had developed a more sophisticated taste regarding food. He also enjoying those small bookshops filled with old and wrinkled pages. They reminded him of Asgard's library, where he had spent most of his life.

Yet, he was getting bored.

He could travel elsewhere of course. Other realms. Other planets. But he knew his brother kept an eye on him. Pun not intended. Heimdall was observing him too. Besides, he didn't feel like misbehaving…yet. And he was no fool. He was aware of Thanos' plans and he knew he was coming to get the stones.

He had been years under his control, tortured, punished. He knew how he thought and what he wanted, and Loki was well aware that he wouldn't stop until he could get them. He had an ambition, a plan, and that made him dangerous.

Moreover, the God of Mischief had found an…interesting distraction in the little spider. Their little game was like chess and it was her time to move. He had more pawns to use than she did and that gave him advantage over the game.

He poured himself a glass of scotch and sat down, observing the starry sky over the large windows that covered almost a whole wall, allowing him to have a view of the city. Loki could even see the Avengers tower. His fingers gripped the glass and he sighed. It had been a long time, but he still resented that place. It was humiliating for him to think about being smashed by such a beast.

Sometimes, what he even resented were his own actions.

He didn't care about Midgard at all. He had grown up in Asgard, surrounded by magic, beauty and other things Earthlings could not even imagine. He didn't spare a thought to them. But everything had changed when he discovered the truth. When Odin didn't seem affected by his fall from the bridge.

Loki wanted to take everything from his brother's hands. Everything he liked. And Midgard seemed like one of those things. He wanted to rule it because Thor liked it.

Thanos had discovered that. He had seen inside the God's soul after breaking him over and over and he told him what he wanted to hear. He promised him a throne. A land to rule. He only had to hand him the Tesseract.

_You think you know pain…?_

The words came to his mind again and Loki growled, grasping the glass with such a strength it broke. His chest moved rapidly as he tried to recover, swallowing hard repeatedly. He was fine, he told himself. Thanos would not find him. The Avengers…

What?, he scolded himself. What would they do against the Mad Titan? There was nothing they could do. Maybe run to the most hidden place in the Universe and pray to their Gods for the Titan's absolution.

Loki sighed and used his seidr to repair the damage. The glass was gone from the carpet and a new one appeared in his hand. He took a long sip when he felt something in his pocket. The God frowned at the vibration of that strange device he had learnt to use and shook his head, knowing he wouldn't be relaxed that night.

Very few people knew he had a phone, after all.

"Yes?"

"Sir?"

"I hope it's important. It's late" replied Loki menacingly, staring at the skyline of New York as darkness surrounded him. The mercenary wouldn't call unless it was something important.

"It's her, sir"

Loki stirred and straightened his back when he heard those words, feeling his body tense and his jaw clenched, waiting for him to continue.

"If something happened to her, I will kill you with my bare hands"

"I didn't. She's gone"

"What?!" Loki stood up and paced near the window, his mind making up scenarios while his free hand ran down his dark curls.

"She escaped from the hospital, sir"

The God of Mischief stopped, and a wide grin appeared in his lips, placing his hand on the glass and staring at the stars. Well, that was a surprise.

"Stay away from her. Do not let her know it was me. Leave the city, whatever. But if she appears, if you hear something, text me"

"Yes, sir"

Loki hung up and kept the device inside his pocket. A chuckled emerged from his throat, making his chest vibrate as he shook his head. The image of Natasha Romanoff in that hospital bed still filled him with joy and satisfaction. The woman who dared to tricked him, so defenceless.

And yet, the itsy bitsy spider was not done. She had run away to protect herself, to prepare for a new attack. She was weaving her threads around the snake and would be more than willing to pull.

"Well, Agent Romanov…" Loki stared at his reflection on the window. Green eyes shining with mischief and the same smile in his features. "I accept the challenge. The game is on"


	10. The man

**A/N: I got inspired enough to write two chapters quite fast. I hope you all enjoy it. We are getting closer to a Loki and Natasha reunion ;)**

**I want to point that in this chapter we will discover certain information about a character that does not follow the MCU but the comics for narrative purposes. I hope you don't mind!**

**Warnings: Mentions of blood, violence, guns, fights.**

**Words: 3,238.**

* * *

The place smelled of rain. Drops pouring on the pavement. Soft thunders that echoed in the quarter. The lingering notes of a jazz musician somewhere, creating a magical atmosphere. The few pedestrians that dared to go out or that had got caught in the storm were under the roofs, waiting for it to stop. Colours that caught the eye filled the streets. She had been in plenty of cities, but never in one as such.

The mug with hot tea between her hands. A lower bun that let some locks of hair caress her features. A camisole and shorts. Her body leaning against the frame, observing the balcony soaking with the storm. She closed her eyes, enjoying the smell of creole food that came from a nearby restaurant.

New Orleans had always been different, she knew that. The city felt, breathed. The culture and the music were everywhere. The French Quarter always welcomed her in a strange way that she never quite understood but accepted anyways. She felt a calmness she barely felt anywhere.

And now, the storm only added more charm, rather than diminish it. Having a flat in the French Quarter with an iron balustrade had its advantages. Hearing that wonderful jazz solo with the rain drops in the background was one of them.

Natasha Romanov sighed and took a sip of her tea, green eyes on the streets. She analysed every single thing that appeared in her range of vision, breathing peacefully. Her injuries felt much better and there was not a sign in her face that reminded her of her encounters with Loki and that mysterious man.

Yet, the scar in her clavicle would remain, as a memory of the fight against the God of Mischief. Natasha despised the idea of being…_marked_ by him. She could almost imagine the arrogant grin in his features if he knew about it.

The spider bitten by the snake. The irony in that.

The phone chimed and the screen lightened up, forcing the spy to get back to reality, escaping that bubble in which the only thing that mattered was the music in the quarter and that calming feeling.

She had work to do.

Natasha emptied the mug and went inside the apartment, pacing to the table, where the phone awaited. She had some messages from Clint, who was taking care of Liho, sending her photos of the cat asleep with Lucky. The redhead smiled at that and noticed she missed the little pet quite a lot, something that surprised her.

But the message she was waiting for had arrived.

An address, near Jackson Square. Some pictures. Apparently, it was a small apartment, quite elegant, to say the least. Obviously, he had chosen an expensive place to stay, of course. Natasha wondered how much money they had paid him to attack her. It should have been a large sum, for the Black Widow was not an easy target, after all.

The spy sighed and tossed the phone on the table again, near the mug. She looked around her, scanning the room and checking mentally the hidden places of her guns and weapons, among other devices. She was more than prepared to face that man.

T'Challa had been as helpful as he could. He worried about the possibility of inadequate people getting their hands on vibranium. It wasn't the first time after what happened with Killmonger and he was afraid that other organisations could get the material.

"Send Shuri the footage. I'll tell you something as soon as I can" he had said days ago.

The Wakandan man had kept his promise and called the following day, claiming he knew who that man was and how he could trace him.

"His name is Hunter; he was known as White Wolf. He belonged to the Hatut Zeraze, Wakanda's secret police. I dismantled it years ago due to its brutality. After that, the men who worked for Hunter left with him. I should have supposed this could happen…" T'Challa said, almost blaming himself.

"There was nothing you could you, T'Challa. Don't be so hard on yourself. Now it's time to see why he attacked me"

"There's nothing you had that could appeal him, right? No intel, no data. I got information about his current activities and he works as a mercenary now. The ones who pay, the ones who get the service. Probably there was someone who wanted to hurt you, Agent Romanov"

"That's really useful. Now I only have to check the limitless list" she had muttered under her breath, causing the man to laugh on the other side of the line.

"We can trace him. He's a capable man and really intelligent. He probably left the city"

"That would be helpful. Thank you, I owe you one"

"Just bring those Starbucks coffees Okoye loves, and it'll be fine"

Those leads had brought Natasha to New Orleans, one of the cities in the States with the highest rate of criminality. Probably the White Wolf knew where and how to hide, even how to get a job.

T'Challa had asked if she needed any help, but she refused. It was a personal matter after all and needed a name. If the Wakandan government got involved, everything would become political and she wouldn't get the information she required. She promised, though, she would make it easy for the Wakandan agents to capture him.

She glanced one more time to the open balcony, the soft breeze rocking the sheer curtains. The music had stopped but the rain kept falling. A thunder threatened to tear the gloomy sky and the lightening came mere seconds afterwards. Natasha didn't even flinch before she sighed and moved to her bedroom, where her gear and clothes waited.

She had a job to do.

* * *

The rain had stopped. People had started to fill Royal Street again. She heard them chatting happily while they went from one part of the quarter to the other. Most of them were tourists, enjoying what the city had to offer before lunch.

Her steps were steady, calm. Her eyes were covered with sunglasses and had a lovely bonnet over dark hair. She wore comfortable clothes and a coat over it, filled with weapons. She had one of her knives in her boots, just in case.

She observed Jackson Square on the other side of the street and scanned the area, looking for a certain apartment. She was not in a rush, actually. She even had an appointment.

It had been easy to convince the man on the other side of the phone to take her case. A wealthy woman, knowing that her equally wealthy husband was cheating on her. She needed proofs to get the divorce and take all the money from him. Was it an interesting task? No. But the amount of money she had promised had been enough for the mercenary to accept.

Everybody liked an easy job, isn't it?

Natasha walked upstairs in the lovely building she had noted down. The façade was typical from the Quarter and the balconies had the iron balustrade. The wood creaked under her steps. She could have been as silent if she had wanted, but she knew better. The man could get suspicious and probably knew every single tread in the building.

Her finger pressed the doorbell and waited patiently until a tall man opened the door. He had blonde hair and the shadow of a stubble. Natasha calculated him to be around 6'2". She greeted him with a shake of their hands and made a coquettish gesture with her hair, acting like a woman who was used to get what she wanted.

"Thanks for meeting me, Mister" she said, changing the tone of her voice to make it an octave higher. Her eyes scanned the apartment and noticed it was probably a rented place, barely used. He wouldn't be there for a long time. Natasha needed to act cautiously and quickly.

"Well, you had quite a delicious offer, Mrs. Hartford. I couldn't say no"

The man made a gesture for her to sit down on one of the expensive chairs and she obliged, crossing her legs elegantly. She waited to see if he recognised her at all, even though it was highly unlikely. The Widow had used one of the devices she used against Pierce years ago, changing her features for some who didn't resemble to hers.

"How did you know about me?"

"A friend of mine hired you ages ago and said you were quite discreet and reliable" She replied, thanking him for the glass he had handed to her. "And this task needs discretion"

"Of course. So…your husband cheated on you, huh?"

The man served himself a glass of vodka and sat down in front of her. Natasha played along and described a believable story about a husband who had a younger lover and a wife who planned revenge by taking all his money from him. Nothing she had not seen in the higher classes of society. Money could be a powerful stimulus.

The Black Widow didn't listen to him when he spoke, detailing his services and what he could do and the benefits he expected. She analysed his movements, his features. Her mind worked as fast as she could to find a way to escape, in case it was necessary.

"Money won't be a problem" she replied rather harshly and almost mechanically before she realised and made her lips twitch upwards into a smile.

"Good. Then I will give you the payment details and once I get the first part, I'll contact you again to make you know I'm on my way" Natasha nodded and interlaced her fingers, crossing her legs. The man gulped his drink and emptied his glass before staring at her, making the ice click against the surface. "Who was your friend, by the way?"

Natasha smiled softly and before the man could react, her sleeve had lowered down her arm, showing her Widow's Bites. The dart hit his neck and the mercenary groaned in pain, falling to the floor, trembling and shaking. The spy took the device from her face and it transformed again to her usual features, which changed to a ruthless and cold stare, approaching him with a Glock in her hands.

"Let's talk about that friend, shall we?" Her shoe stepped in his shin and the man grunted in pain, still suffering the aftershocks of the bracelets. "Who sent you?"

"…"

Natasha made a gesture of disgust and impatience and dug the heel deeper, causing the man to shout, trying to get away from her, wriggling. She unlocked the gun and pointed at his shoulder, raising a perfect eyebrow.

"Who paid you to attack me?"

"Fuck you"

The Widow shot him on the knee and the man growled, grabbing her leg while blood pooled under his body, staining the carpet. Natasha moved and sat down on the chair, still pointing at him with the gun. She sighed dramatically.

"Look, I don't know how much that person paid you. I could pay you even more. But honestly, I don't like when someone crashes into my house and tries to kill me, you know? It annoys me" She added with a playful tone, smiling coldly while staring at him. "And let's be honest. You're a mercenary. You sell your services to the highest bidder. You're not going to risk your own safety for someone you don't know, right?"

Hunter chuckled softly and spit to the woman, who saw how it landed on the floor. He felt tired, probably. His muscles would not obey to his brain for at list a few minutes and the blood puddle was increasing its size.

"Oh, if you just knew, Widow…" he replied with the same laugh and a mocking tone, staring at her. His blue eyes were piercing, and she wanted to slap him again and again until he spoke. "What do you offer to me?"

"Money"

"I've got plenty of that"

Natasha Romanova took a deep breath, nostrils flaring at the insolence showed by that man. It would be easy for her to break every single bone but T'Challa had sent her all the intel Wakanda had about him. The Hatut Zeraze were an elite group inside Wakanda's security organisation. Besides, he was more than familiar with the use and knowledge of their technology and uses of vibranium.

He was not someone to be belittled.

A smirk appeared in Natasha's features and she leant, placing her elbows on her knees while her eyes scanned the man in front of her, laying on his own blood and suffering. She arched one perfect eyebrow and reclined back, pointing at him with her gun.

"I assume you've been through worse than this. Even though I haven't tried my methods yet" Hunter crawled until his back was against the armchair, observing the spy with his own eyebrow lifted. "I am called the Red Death for a reason. Still, I know who you are…Hunter"

The man stiffed and Natasha _almost_ smiled triumphally at his expression. The colour had drained from his features and suddenly he seemed nervous, even if he tried to cover it. The mercenary cleared his throat and waited patiently.

"I know who you are and where do you come from. I know that King T'Challa is more than willing to have a few words with you"

"What do you want, Widow?"

"The name. I want to know who hired you. And I promise I'll lead the king to another way, far from your real position"

Hunter observed her, eyes scanning the woman's gestures and her face, looking for a trace of a lie. He was a mercenary and a good agent, but definitely not as good as the Black Widow herself. Natasha knew he was considering his option and decided to push him to the right direction.

"I can help you run, Hunter. Besides, I could hurt you in more ways than your little brain could imagine. The name. Now" Her stern voice left no choices and the man sighed, grunting when he felt another wave of pain surging from his knee.

"His name's Bjorn. Or that's what he told me, at least" he said with a swallow, looking at the woman with resentment. "He said that he wanted you injured, not dead"

"What?" Natasha was taken aback at the statement, frowning. Hunter shrugged and cleaned his forehead, covered with sweat.

"I found that petition weird too. He had the money to pay, so he could have killed you. But he insisted. He didn't want you dead, just hurt" he emphasized the last words and the Widow's brain tried to work as fast as it could.

It didn't make sense at all. Why would anybody want to hurt her when they had a former Wakandan warrior at their service? They didn't even leave any kind of message. A threat. A warning. Nothing.

"Tell me more about him"

"I'm losing too much blood…" Hunter muttered, and Natasha faked a worried face.

"Oh, poor mine. Speak. The faster you give me what I want, the sooner I'll leave"

"I don't know anything. I just got the payment. It was weird, though…I tried to find the source from the money as a way to secure my position…"

"And?"

"Nothing. I had the money in my bank account, but it seemed to have appeared from nowhere" Natasha frowned and shook her head softly. The wig had started to itch. She needed to get out there as fast as she could. "If I tell you this, he'll know"

"That's not my problem. You're a former elite soldier, figure it out. You'll know how and where to hide. Either that man or Wakandan authorities, you choose"

"Okay, fine! You bloody…" He stopped when Natasha shook his gun slightly, as if to demonstrate who was in charge. He exhaled with his lips pressed in a thin line and grunted, coughing. "He was tall. Taller than me. Sharp features. British accent. Elegant. Probably someone who belongs to the aristocracy. Black hair. Green eyes"

Natasha felt her blood freezing at the description. No. It couldn't be. Why would he risk himself and his position for...that?

_From now on I will do whatever I please with you, Natasha._

_Killing you would be so easy. I want to play with you, make your life miserable as if you were a mere puppet in my personal collection._

That voice. Those words.

It all came to his mind like a truck hitting her body, leaving her breathless. She had not considered that option. She had him so far away from his mind that she didn't…Her green eyes flickered, and the man noticed that, smirking.

"You know him"

He was not asking; he was affirming that suggestion. Natasha pressed her lips on a thin line and stood up. Suddenly, she heard a deafening noise coming from the stairs and her eyes moved to the man, who was still smiling smugly.

"Did you think I would not be helped by my men?" He said, taking a sort of a warning device with a button from his pocket. Natasha muttered some curse words in Russian and analysed her possibilities. They would be soon in the apartment. "It's time to finish it, Widow"

Natasha used her knee to hit him on the nose, causing the man to yell in pain. His face was now covered in blood and the nose probably broken. Some fists slammed on the door, calling loudly.

"Consider yourself served, asshole. Thank you for your cooperation. Good luck with Wakanda"

Before he could attack her, Natasha ran to one of the main windows and used a hook tied to her belt. Air hit her face when her body slid elegantly to the ground, under the astonished gazes of some tourists around the building. She could hear Hunter's voice cursing her and her ancestors while other men yelled, probably running down the stairs.

"Get her, you idiots!"

The Black Widow smirked and used her phone to send a code to T'Challa, knowing the Wakandan authorities would find him soon. She had not been naïve. She knew they would be following her, allowing her to work. She had promised the king to warn them when the job was done, and she did.

You can't trust a double agent after all, and Hunter had learnt that lesson the hard way.

Natasha rushed to get to Bourbon Street, one of main streets in New Orleans, taking off her wig and tossing it in a dumpster. Her red hair shone like fire and she made sure she could blend into the groups of tourists who enjoyed the bars and the pubs. A jazz group was playing nearby and soon it would rain again.

Natalia Romanova smiled and decided it was time for her to get a reward. Maybe some of those wonderful beignets from the Café du Monde and then a nice bath with a cup of tea. Probably the men had already given up or had been detained by T'Challa's people. Not that she really cared, of course.

Now the Black Widow had a name and a lead to follow. She knew what to do next. Moreover, she had now an advantage and would use it for her own benefit.

When she got back to New York, it would be a good time to see an old friend.

* * *

**A/N: ****As you see, I used the White Wolf's character from the comics rather than the MCU version, which would be Bucky, probably. It fitted better to my story!**


	11. The ride

**Words: 2,614**

**Warnings: None**

* * *

The corridors were crowded. People walking back and forth. Soft steps echoing in the area. They were doing a good job, or at least they tried.

New Asgard was nothing like the former realm. It didn't have palaces, golden statues or splendour. But the Asgardians seemed content with the area Norway had agreed to share with them, getting used to building relationships with Midgardians and trying to fix their lives after Ragnarok.

She knew it was not easy. Fury had told them. Yet, it seemed Thor had friends and people he trusted like Brunhilde, the Valkyrie. Sometimes Bruce went there too. And Loki.

Apparently, the God of Mischief and Thor had improved their relationship or whatever they had during their adventures in Sakaar and Asgard. Not that she cared, but she found quite impressive and remarkable that he agreed to work with his brother from time to time.

"Natasha!" Thor's voice rumbled in the room like the sound of the same thunders he created. He dismissed one of his councillors with a gesture and strode to the spot where the spy was waiting with a smile in her features and her arms crossed. He opened his and soon Natasha found herself pressed against that muscular God.

"Careful! I can't breathe!" she joked while struggling to get out of his embrace. Thor was like a giant puppy and that was something the Widow had learnt. Even though he respected her boundaries and space most of the time, sometimes she couldn't get away with the hugs.

"The Widow. You and your lethal sting" he retorted, letting her go. His laugh echoed in the area and Thor crossed his arms, staring at his friend. "What brought you to New Asgard? Apart from watching me ruling with wisdom" he joked.

"I need your help. I think you might have some information that could be helpful!"

"Whatever you need!" Thor led Natasha to a series of corridors to an administrative area. Valkyrie and Heimdall were there and greeted the spy with respect.

"Agent Romanov. I saw you coming" Heimdall said with a small smile in his features. Natasha smiled back and waved at Valkyrie, who returned the gesture.

"Of course you did"

"Please, may I ask to have you served anything? I don't recommend you any Asgardian ale, even though I consider you the only one capable of drinking it without passing out" Natasha smirked at those words and all laughed before Thor cleared his throat. "What do you need?"

"Well, as I told you, I need certain information and I need you. All" she added before her eyes went to Heimdall and Valkyrie, who frowned. "I need to speak with Heimdall, if that's possible"

"Of course it is!" Thor said with his features displaying his confusion. "Is everything alright, Natasha?"

"It's classified. But it's okay. I promise"

Thor stared at her colleague and nodded before placing his arms around her shoulders, walking with her to the table where Heimdall and Valkyrie had been discussing political matters. The United Nations seemed to push them, and they didn't know what to do with a group of Asgardians in Earth, even if Norway had accepted happily their presence.

"It must be truly important for you to come here, then" he added once they were seated. Heimdall waited patiently with his golden eyes on Natasha's face. She didn't even flinch at it. "Speak freely for we are all friends here"

"I must ask you something, Heimdall. You see everything, isn't it?" The man added solemnly before the spy spoke again. "Do you remember everything too?"

"Well, I try. But I'm quite a few centuries old. My mind might not be as bright" he joked, making Natasha smile briefly.

"Perfect. I need to know…" she took a paper with a date written on it and placed it on the table. The three Asgardians stared at it without understanding. Natasha interlaced her fingers and sighed before speaking again. "I need to know if you saw Loki this specific day and what he did"

Heimdall opened his mouth to reply but got quickly interrupted by Valkyrie's groan and Thor's fist on the table.

"What did Lackey do this time?"

"Natasha, is SHIELD behind this? Because if he did something again I swear…"

"No. He didn't do anything. SHIELD's not involved. I know" she added, raising her hand to interrupt the God before he spoke again. "I know I said it was classified. It was because…it's something personal"

"What?"

"Now I'm even more confused" replied Valkyrie, leaning on her chair and staring at Natasha, who was looking at Thor.

"I can't tell you anything, but I promise Earth is not compromised again. He's doing…well, he's being Loki. But no new attempts to conquer it. You have to trust me on this one. He didn't do anything"

_Except for attacking me with a glass and probably paying a mercenary to throw me from a roof._

Thor stared at the woman with his only eye before sighing, nodding and making a gesture to Heimdall, who cleared his throat. The God liked his fellow Avengers and had much respect for the Russian woman. She was fierce, and strong like Lady Sif herself. If she had unfinished business with his brother, she knew who she was dealing with.

Not that he wasn't less worried, no. He knew Loki, and he could be quite…temperamental.

"I did see him, Lady Romanov. On that day I saw him with a man" Natasha almost smiled triumphally and took her phone from her jacket, showing him a picture of the White Wolf, sent by T'Challa.

"Is this man?" Heimdall leant and observed the photo with a calmness that surprised Natasha. He always seemed so composed, as if nothing could provoke him. The man nodded solemnly.

"Indeed, he is. He was with Loki in a coffee shop some days ago"

"Could you see what they were doing?"

"They exchanged money for some kind of service. His words were not clear enough, I'm afraid"

"That's enough for me. Thank you, guys"

Natasha stood up and Thor imitated her, staring at her intensely. She knew what was going to happen next. He still worried about his brother. After all those years or even centuries, after all the betrayal, Thor was still there. He loved Loki, even if he didn't acknowledge or refused to accept it. The Avengers didn't get it. Yes, he was part of his family. Actually, he was what was left of his entire family, but still. He was Loki, the God of Mischief.

Natasha didn't understand. She was used to people not trusting her, and it was a respectable decision. Wise, even. She was the Black Widow; she had a reputation. It was common. Not that it hurt less, though. She still remembered the way people stared at her when she joined SHIELD, Clint by her side.

_Don't listen to them, Natasha. You belong here._

Did she? She was still a freelancer, of course. She was an Avenger, but her work as a spy didn't finished.

She wouldn't fool anyone. Her hands would be always tainted with blood, 'till the day she died.

"If anything happens…if he does something to you or anyone…" Thor's heavy hand landed on her shoulder and Natasha smiled, placing her own on top, giving a soft squeeze.

"I promise. I'll call you so you guys can kick his ass again"

Thor roared in laughter and tried to convince her to stay, but she refused, claiming she had a job to do. Heimdall teleported her to the Avengers facility and she landed on her bed, feeling dizzy.

Damn teleportation.

Natasha laid her head on the pillows, the pain long forgotten. Her injuries were almost healed and the scar in her collarbone would remain in her skin. Yet, she couldn't help but feel a smile creeping on her lips as her green eyes stared at the ceiling.

This time, she had the upper hand and she loved it.

She just had to wait for the checkmate.

* * *

Loki tapped with his foot on the floor, headphones on. The soft music playing in that Midgardian instrument. He waited patiently in the area, aware of the stares his presence alone caused. Some of them had their hands near their guns, just in case. The God had to suppress the laugh that wanted to escape from his lips.

Simple humans. They seriously thought that those weapons of them would harm him.

Just as he planned, he saw a sea of fire living in the shade of her hair as she exited the elevator. Her brows were frowned as her green eyes, like emeralds, observed him. He smirked at the annoyed reaction he had caused on the spy. Loki opened his arms after he kept his phone and headphones.

"My dear spy! It's been a long time! How are you?" Natasha approached him, aware of everybody staring at them. Not that she cared, but _how dared him_… "Ah! I appreciate you are as fierce and strong as always. I suppose the healing went well" he added with a smug tone in his voice.

"What the hell are you doing here, Laufeyson?"

"I'm glad to see you too, Agent"

"I'm not. Out, now" she ordered, crossing her arms, ready to defend herself in case it was necessary. Yet, she was no fool and neither was him. He knew perfectly that being in the Avengers facility was a disadvantage for him.

"Oh, no, no. Please, walk with me"

Loki moved his hand to the outside of the building, where some agents were training in the green grass. Natasha blinked a few times and scanned the area around them, before making a gesture with her chin. The God lifted his hands and strutted outside, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.

"How's your scar?"

"Don't bullshit me. What do you want?"

Suddenly, a car appeared outside the fence and Natasha squinted, trying to guess if was one of SHIELD'S cars. She even expected FRIDAY to call for a security breach, but nothing happened. Natasha turned to observe Loki, whose smile widened and a glint of mischief in his eyes.

"Ah, our ride. Tell me, agent Romanov…" he paused, and the Widow almost rolled her eyes at his dramatic ass. He was a diva, of course. "how does it sound holidays in Norway?"

"What?" Natasha's confused face turned to him and Loki lunged at her, picking her up and tossing her body over his shoulders. "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?" The Widow's voice echoed in the area and she kicked him on the chest. Loki grunted and placed one arm over her legs, stopping her movements.

"I told you. We're going on holidays. And this would be easier if you cooperated" He added with his jaw clenched before he teleported both of them outside, near the car. He opened the door and placed the spy inside almost effortlessly, following her. Natasha tried to move away to the other door, but it was magically locked.

"Let me go, you maniac!" she said, observing as he sat down with a grace and elegance, typical features of someone who was raised as a prince.

The car kept its way to the airport, as Natasha supposed. That was something she didn't understood, for he could have just teleported both of them to wherever the hell he was thinking to travel with her. Her mind was working as fast as it could, trying to understand the reason why Loki, the God of Mischief and Lies would do something like that. Was he planning on using her as a trade card? Like a _Get out of jail_ card.

Natasha knew FRIDAY probably recorded everything and the Avengers would be informed, but she didn't know where she'd be by the time they noticed. Or maybe he had used his magic to fool everyone and trick the cameras.

"I'm just trying to do something nice for once, Natasha. Taking you to a well-deserved vacation in Romsdal" Loki's voice pulled her out of her thoughts and she huffed.

"Yeah, sure" She tried to wiggle when his arms attempted to hold her legs. The spy kicked him on the shin and Loki hissed, growling and grabbing her ankles, pulling until she was laying on the seat. He smirked at the position, not knowing if he liked it or not, even wondering if she liked it.

"If you could just stop…"

Loki didn't finish the sentence, for the Widow used her training to drag him to the floor. As he fell, the God grabbed her hips and pulled her with him. Natasha hissed when her knee hit the floor and her hands were on both sides of Loki's head.

"What are you doing there?" the chauffeur said from the other side of the glass that separated the two parts of the car. "I wasn't paid for this!"

"Well, agent Romanov…" Loki's voice was smooth like silk and his eyes observed her while her red curls fell around them like a fire curtain. His lips curved into a smirk and Natasha observed his features, noticing that he was even more handsome than she thought.

No, no. She didn't think he was handsome. Not him. Not…_Loki_.

The God raised his face a few inches with that smug smile on his features, almost grazing their noses together. A few red dots appeared in Natasha's face as she tried to hide the strange feel inside her.

"I'm starting to enjoy this"

"Please, just don't" she huffed, trying to get up. Before she could get any further, his long arms circled her back and pressed her body against his. She growled and bared her teeth as she grunted. "Let. Me. Go"

"Why? Is this making you nervous?"

They were so close that Natasha could feel his breath caressing her features when he spoke. She saw the dots of green and blue in his eyes and the way his black hair fell around him like a dark halo.

"Now"

Loki sighed at her tone and let her go, noticing the car had stopped. She went back to her seat and he observed her from the floor with that smirk in his features, running a hand down his dark locks.

"You're not going to make it easy, huh?"

"Just let me go and I won't be a burden for you"

"I'm just trying to do things right, Natasha"

Before she could open the door, he rushed to get out of the car, taking her wrist. Surprisingly, Natasha noticed he wasn't grabbing her forcefully but rather delicately. She lifted her gaze to his and discovered he was looking back at her with something illegible in his features. Loki sighed without letting her go.

"Please", he added.

The Widow tried to consider her options and sighed before she agreed to accept his offer. She knew she was going to regret it. She was about to get in a plane with the same God who had wanted to subjugate Earth years ago and nobody in her team knew it.

What could go wrong, apart from everything?

"Let's go…_darling_" Loki purred in her ear as she got out the car, the chauffeur staring at them with an eyebrow raised. The God put his arm around her shoulders, pressing her body against his. He was surprised to discover he enjoyed the warmth around him, even though it was just a way to ensure she didn't go far.

Natasha Romanov sighed again as they entered the airport, looking around her to find a way to escape from that manic.

Little she knew Norway awaited and that it would be full of surprises.


	12. The airport

**Words: 2,585.**

**Warnings: None. **

**A/n: Hi guys! Sorry for the delay, but I had been terribly busy! Well, let's see what Loki has in store. Who knows what might happen in that plane! **

* * *

Loki had observed Natasha, almost exasperated. He didn't want to make a scene in front of the driver, and both were prone to do so, especially when they confronted each other. He placed his arm around Natasha's shoulder and pressed her body flush against his own. The god was surprised to notice the slim silhouette, wondering how she could be so deadly while being so tiny.

They walked to the airport. They didn't have any suitcases, any luggage. Only two plain tickets and an improvised path.

"I'm not asking you to trust me, Natasha, but to yield and come with me. I won't force you" Well, at least if the spy didn't make him to do it. Loki was used to take what he deserved or what he thought he deserved. "You have to do your bit"

"I don't believe anything you say" she replied, tensing her body when she felt how close they were.

The inside of the building was a hive of activity. People walking from one place to another. Trolleys, suitcases. A voice in the loudspeakers warning the passengers about any problem or reminding them of the incoming take-offs. Natasha looked around her. Her spy training was searching for an escape. A way to leave Loki behind or distract him enough. Even if she had to hit him in the airport.

"I will regret this" she muttered.

Loki looked at her out of the corner of his eye. He didn't trust her and knew she would use any of her tricks to get rid of the God. Yet, he knew exactly what he _wanted_, and Loki was sure she would answer before him.

"You might not believe it, but this is not only for me" Actually, it was the first time it was not for him. He walked calmly and stared around him, observing the puny mortals that moved to their destines. "We had a terrible start; I admit that, and I understand you're annoyed with me. Although, in my defence, you're always annoyed" he joked and smiled softly. "But I'm trying to do things different this time"

Natasha turned and observed Loki incredulously, almost scoffing at his words.

"Have you hit your head? I think it's the first time in your life you do something for someone else. Or so you say" she added, her voice sour and acid, memories flooding her mind. There had been too many things and Natasha knew there was something else, but she couldn't guess what.

They were on the queue to the check in, waiting patiently. The Widow listened to his words carefully and growled at the word he chose. Annoyed was the least she could be. Technically, he had appeared in the compound and had kidnapped her. She looked at him and raised an eyebrow.

"Seriously? Different? Please, don't tell me your planning on taking me to some dream holidays"

"That's exactly what I'm saying. Now, you have two options here. Either you trust my word and trust everything will be okay or…you can miss the flight. Yet…" he crossed his arms and observed the woman. "I think it's a little late for another scene"

"I believe you underestimate my capability to make a scene" Natasha replied, almost jokingly. Almost.

Yet, after the check in, her options had decreased. She didn't want to go on holidays with him. Actually, why did he want to go with _her_? Not only that, people certainly could recognise her and Loki. And she would never admit it out loud, but a headline on the news with images of Loki picking up the spy like a potato sack was not something elegant.

Natasha crossed her arms and stopped walking, staring at him and raising and eyebrow.

"What if I ran away?"

Other passengers were looking around the different stores to buy some drinks or books before taking their flights. Some were walking to their boarding gates. The idea of Loki being in control of the situation or being stuck with him in a closed space was not something appealing to her.

"If you ran away _right now_?" repeated the God with a clear amusement in his voice and features. His eyes scanned the area and noticed some people staring at them with curiosity. "If you ran away, I'd kill every single person here. And even if you tried to stop me, I'll end up with many innocent lives before you accomplish it. Remember, my dear, I'm a God, and none of your mortal prisons could stop me"

He had whispered those words near her earlobe, cold breath hitting the soft skin. The tone of it was menacing and dark. Natasha's instinct told her to move away, but she stayed still. When he stopped talking moved, with his face near Natasha's. Loki smiled as if nothing had happened and lifted his hand, placing a soft caress on her cheek. She grimaced and moved away

"You first, darling"

"Don't you dare calling me darling, trickster" she hissed, moving away from him.

Years ago, she might have doubted. But she knew Loki and was aware that he didn't mind hurting people if that led him to where he wanted. She still remembered Stuttgart and all the damages he had caused in New York.

Some people turned and observed them, probably wondering if they were friends or a couple. Natasha wasn't sure they didn't recognise them, after all. She was an Avenger and he was the guy that had tried to conquer the Earth years ago. Besides, he was Thor's brother.

The Black Widow's personality was one of the things the God loved. Behind that cold, ruthless and stern appearance there was something else. And that something invited Loki to play with Natasha as far as she allowed him. He knew that reaction was due to her pride. Opposite to Loki, the spy wouldn't allow innocent lives to be in danger. He didn't mind how many people suffered if he got what he wanted.

Considering they had no luggage, Loki grabbed Natasha's arm, earning a cold stare from the spy, and dragged her to the duty free. There were different shops with people going back and forth, buying stuff before getting to their planes. Loki stopped in front of a bookshelf, reading the titles out loud.

"_"The Art of War", "Control your emotions", "Seeking positive thought"_ What kind of titles are these? They seem made for you, agent, don't you think?" He said with a smirk.

"I should buy you the one that talks about controlling emotions. I think it fits you perfectly" she replied with a dry tone, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms. "Is there anything about getting along with your brother or your father? And how about one about not conquering the Earth?"

""_Heal your body_" This one you should buy! They might teach you how to erase a scar permanently"

His voice was smug and confident and his eyes travelled to the spy's face with the same smile in his features, noticing Natasha's annoyed gesture before he moved away and went over the shop, taking a few chocolate bars with him and walking to the cashier to pay them. She had to breathe slowly through her nose to stop herself from punching his arrogant features.

Suddenly, Natasha noticed that his back was facing her, and her heart moved faster. Her green eyes analysed the area. What if…maybe she could do it. She had done it before, disappearing in broad daylight. She took a few steps towards the crowd and she mixed between them, covering her head with the hoodie. The spy stopped at a store and bought some juice bottles to pretend, hidden behind several people.

Meanwhile, Loki had a smile on his features while paying for the chocolate. He thought everything was going smoothly, according to the…plan? What plan? He had to admit he had act compulsively by "kidnapping" Natasha Romanov. But still, she was still there and hadn't tried to put a bullet in his brain. That was good, right? She was still there.

Or so he thought, because he turned only to discover the Widow had vanished. Loki checked the clock and noticed his plane would take off in less than half an hour. He muttered curses in Ancient Norse. Did she think he was kidding?

"Well, little spider. _You_ made me do this"

He walked, looking for a ginger hair that might help to identify the spy. When he found her, Loki placed his hand on her shoulder, muttering her name, only to discover it was not Natasha but a common girl. He moved all over the place, trying to find her.

Loki ended up near a small coffee shop full of people chatting calmly, or maybe using their devilish electronic devices. They served different types of coffee with high and certainly exaggerated prices. He took a deep breath and used his _seidr_ to become Steve Rogers. Soon some people recognised him and stopped to stare or to surround him.

Natasha had finished her shopping and was looking around her, when she heard the whispering and murmuring of those around her. She felt her heart skip a bit and knew something was wrong.

She turned to leave when she noticed the tall and familiar figure of someone she knew well. Steve Rogers was on the other side of the coffee shop, looking around him. Natasha felt relief running down her veins. Maybe they had followed her steps, or even her phone, which she had not checked yet, thanks to Loki. But when she had decided to approach Steve, his next words made her realise it was not the Captain.

"I want you to make a line and kneel before me or I'll take you out…one by one" He said with a smirk in his now different features, with a shadow of a threat in his blue eyes. Only two of them obeyed, thinking this was some kind of joke and smiled. "I said…KNEEL!"

This time, his voice echoed in the area and they all kneeled, not knowing what was happening. Natasha shivered, remembering that night in Germany, years ago. She turned her gaze and noticed some of them were actually kneeling.

Why wouldn't they? It was Captain America asking, a national symbol. A security guard walked to the crowed, astonished at what was witnessing.

"Rogers?"

"The one and only. I'm looking for my…partner, agent Romanov. And this is the only way" He replied.

_Shit_.

Natasha didn't know what to do. Her brain was considering her options, taking into accont the amount of people in that airport and the powers Loki held. She had tried to fight until the end, but she would have to get inside that damned plane with him and fly to Norway. She couldn't risk the lives of innocent people, especially not her, an Avenger. She didn't want more red in her ledger.

Loki, on the other hand, was having fun. It wasn't the first time he took Steve Rogers' form and it was amusing, playing hero and villain at the same time. Was everything that simple when you were one of the good guys? Maybe he had to change some of his methods. Yet, that idea changed when the guard raised his gun and pointed at him.

"This is not a joke. You have a chance to mind your business or you'll be brought to justice"

"Nothing else?" Loki replied scornfully.

He had it under control, even if the guard had a gun pointing at him. Yet, he had no sight of the spy, and that was the only thing that motivated Loki. The Asgardian huffed while the guard kept complaining, his green eyes scanning the crowd and looking for the Widow. If she cared about those mortals, she had to show up.

But when everything seemed lost, Natasha took a few steps until she was sure he could see her. She acted, showing her skills as a spy and smiled playfully before disappearing, heading to the boarding gates, knowing Loki would follow her. When he saw her, replied with the same smile, but with Rogers' appearance he felt less attractive. Too childlike.

_Disgusting_.

He patted the guard's shoulder and muttered a sarcastic Thank you before he walked away, near the midgardians, still kneeling. He stroked one of the heads, as if they were pets.

"Keep kneeling", he said, hoping they were stupid enough to obey, before heading to the boarding gates, noticing glimpses of Natasha's red hair. He walked to her, now in his usual appearance and sighed. "It wasn't necessary. I mean, it wasn't necessary that you disappeared, but the rest was not that bad" He pressed his lips in a thin line, trying to keep himself from laughing. "You are too simple"

Mortals were simple. Yet, the Black Widow had proven to be complex even for the God of Mischief himself.

"I was trying to run away. But it seems you still have that God complex about dominating everybody and I couldn't allow you to kill innocent people" she whispered, not wanting other passengers to hear their conversation. "You might be the simple one. You ran to me after all" Natasha allowed herself to smirk devilishly before she followed the man.

"It's just people. Your planet is overpopulated, just a few less wouldn't change anything" said he, as if it was the most normal thing.

Actually, he thought that. To him, humans were weak and also destroyed everything around them, including the planet they lived in. Yet, he was not the best candidate to say that, not that he cared, of course. The God of Mischief could allow himself anything.

Like taking the Black Widow away from the Avengers compound to Romsdal, in Norway.

"I wasn't running for you. Not completely. We had barely ten minutes to get here"

They showed their plane tickets and went inside, walking calmly. Loki smiled. Everything had been in a rush, without a plan. And yet, he still believed everything would be alright. The Widow snatched her ticket from his hand.

"I take the window" she said with a tone that proved that her choice was out of discussion. Loki smiled and shook his head, allowing it. Natasha sat down with a sigh, placing her bags between her feet, looking outside the window.

How the hell had she ended up in that situation? In a plane to Norway, locked up for hours, without a way to escape. Definitely, not an ideal situation.

Loki had sat down with his arms behind his head, observing as the assistants took care of everything. He spoke again only when every instruction had been delivered and the plane had taken off.

"Hours ago, you were safe, but you ended up here with me without a way to escape. In a few minutes will be flying and none of your dear Avengers will know what happened to you until you get to Norway and call them"

He paused and licked his lips, staring to the front. He wanted to ask a question even if he knew the answer. Loki turned to stare at Natasha's reflection in the window and observed as the plane kept moving up to the sky. He felt a knot in his stomach. He didn't want to guess if it was due to the plane or the woman mere centimetres away from him that he could never reach and understand.

"You wanted to leave, but if you had an opportunity now…would you do it?


End file.
